


Obstacle

by MourningTBStyle



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-10-09 12:37:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 36,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10412292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MourningTBStyle/pseuds/MourningTBStyle
Summary: Why did everything have to be so difficult? Life in South Park only becomes worse for Tweek when he expands his social circle. The obstacle, the thing that he can't get over is sitting right next to him.





	1. Obstacle 1

We’re sitting in Clyde’s smoky, messy bedroom. I hate it in here, it smells bad and Clyde thinks it’s acceptable to blast music until the walls shake. I hate that I allowed for Clyde to convince me to come over here.

 

It’s only the six of us in his bedroom, there’s a fucking pizza box on the floor. I want to die. Working with Clyde at Harbucks isn’t terrible, he talks at me and I nod.

 

He apparently has sex with Bebe Stevens, star cheerleader, number one pariah when the time is right to hate women at Park High. The North Park kids fucking hate us, most people hate me, nothing new.

 

She’s in here, she goes from hanging on Clyde, who by the way needs to shave his face, perhaps shower? I don’t know. To consoling Wendy Testaburger, number one in our class.

 

Everything jumbles once the heavy rock music fills the room, house, all of fucking South Park. I would bet money that I could hear this shitty music from my house. I’d lose money, probably, but I’m willing.

 

I eavesdrop even though, one, I was invited, two, I’m sitting on the floor while the girls sit on the bed. I feel rude about hearing that Stan Marsh broke up with Wendy again. Especially from a sobbing Wendy.

 

Clyde passes his bong to Jason and mumbles out “You’ll be fine, Wendy, don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to Stan at football practice.” I guess that’s nice. Jason takes a hit, then coughs, and hands the bong to me.

 

I honestly don’t know what to do with it. Craig Tucker is sitting next to me, and like me he hasn’t said a word this whole time. He seems weird, but he gets hoisted into the upper echelon since he’s friends with the ‘star’ running back.  I sheepishly hand Craig the bong, I don’t even own a lighter, and this is making me anxious.

 

“What’s up with him and where’s Token?” Jason pointedly asks, he needs to shave too, what’s up with straight boys? I presume they’re straight, I don’t know, that was shitty of me.

 

I don’t say anything.

 

Craig doesn’t either, and lights up. He’s clean-shaven, he knows what’s up. I’m glad I still don’t grow any facial hair despite being seventeen and definitely hit puberty by now.

 

Bebe says “To leave Tweek, alone.” I’m impressed that she remembers my name. I raise a hand in thanks. She doesn't acknowledge it.

 

Clyde explains that Token is too busy fucking Red right now, I notice that Wendy and I make the same disgusted face. I wonder if it’s because she’s jealous too.

 

The song changes to something less loud, this is also a song. I regret saying yes to this. I might have work tomorrow and this is fucking up my routine. My Sims family needs to be played, god damn it.

 

Wendy is still crying, a little less than before. Bebe suggests off hand that we go bowling.

 

Clyde bellows, “Fuck yeah!”  

 

That sounds terrible, I don’t protest.

 

We have to take two cars, Clyde takes Jason and Craig in his hand-me-down car, while I get stuck with Bebe and Wendy.

 

Bebe has a Porsche her dad bought her apparently, and I, a loser get to ride in it.

 

I guess I should feel emasculated for being regulated to ride with the girls. I really don’t care.

 

“So what’s up Tweek?” Wendy directs her attention to me, her trying to perk herself up to go out in public makes my stomach hurt.

 

“I’m fine!” I say too quickly as I buckle myself into the backseat. I should probably ask Wendy if she’s okay. I don’t, but I think about it. That's what counts.

 

Bebe starts driving and she's more focused than I think she would be. I hate cars almost as much as I hate that Clyde told me to hang with his friends. ‘I seem cool,’ yeah sure. Why did I listen?

 

Thankfully, Bebe plays the radio so we don't have to talk to each other. It's less abrasive and she has the volume at a not deafening level.

 

“Come on, Wendy let's just chill, you could have smoked earlier, you know it calms you down.” Bebe spins the steering wheel to turn us on to a street I've never been on.

 

Wendy digs in her purse, the sounds of her makeup and change mixing make me feel less tense, but my hair's a mess and I notice it.

 

I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Jesus, what the hell? I fish my hand around until I can answer whoever is calling me. No one ever calls.

 

“Hello?” I mumble into my cheap cell phone, I didn't check the caller ID. Bebe takes an interest despite her driving a steel death trap.

 

“Honey it's me, how come you didn't come back from your shift at Harbucks? You told me this morning that you were ‘pissed and tired.’ you were just gonna come right back home. You know how I worry about you when you don't come back.” My mother's soft voice poured out of the speaker into my ear. Bebe and Wendy stop talking, I guess I was right that they were nosy fuckers.

 

I stutter as I speak, “H-hey Mom, I'm just out with friends. I kinda lied?”

 

She pauses, I know she's surprised that I have any friends. She laughs a bit, my mother always laughs, when she laughs though, I can tell she's laughing with me. “Well okay, dear, just let me know if you need a ride home. I love you, be safe!” and she ends the call before I can even say a word.

 

“That was cute, my mom never calls me, like ever.” Bebe snickers to herself.

 

Wendy didn't add anything as we drove in silence to the bowling alley. I'm a little embarrassed, but I don't think I'm gonna die.

 

I hadn't bowled since we were kids and when everyone would get invited to a bowling birthday party. This is a nostalgia trip at best.

 

I'm still impressed that I'm here with them.

 

“Hey Wendy, can you pull out my perfume from the glove box? We smell like shit.” Wendy willingly opens the small compartment and sprays the most pungent perfume. I'm totally convinced that Wendy just spritzed rat poison everywhere.

 

“I found some old gum, do you guys want any?” Wendy offers us, I politely decline, Sounds sketchy.

 

I recoil once we park outside of the North Park Lanes, I didn't realize how far Bebe had driven us.

 

The boys jump out of Clyde’s dirty car. They all look over at us and call us over like we didn't just pull into our spot.

 

“We're coming!” Bebe shouts at them as she steps out of her car, I’m honestly annoyed by all of this, my phones vibrates, this time it's a text.

_(From Thomas) Where are you at? Kevin and Bradley want to know if you want to start a new Dungeon & Dragons campaign soon. _

 

Thomas Corgan, the boy who everyone shouts ‘cock’ at when he walks by. I guess to tease him about his Tourette’s. It’s really fucked up. I try walking and texting him back, the girls seem a bit perplexed that I lag behind.

 

_(To Thomas) You remember when Clyde asked me to hang out? Well I’m doing that right now. SOS._

 

The group of us eventually enter the establishment and walk up to the counter to claim our lane. “Shoe sizes?” The North Park teenager barks at us. I get nervous and have to remind myself to say “Nine, please.”

 

Clyde looks down at my feet, “You do small feet, holy shit.” This gets a laugh out of Jason. Clyde makes a great observation, I don’t respond. I notice Craig walk off over to the bowling balls.

 

The rest of us crowd over to lane number seven, Clyde takes over the machine to type in our names, Bebe and Wendy whisper and giggle to themselves. Clyde types in ‘Pussy Destroyer’ for himself, and ‘Captain Cock’ for Jason. “Hey ladies, what do you want your names be?”

 

“Queen Bebe, bow down, bitch.”

 

Wendy laughs. “Wendy’s fine. We should probably grab some bowling balls, you know.”

 

“I think Craig said that he was going to grab two.” Jason spins in his swiveling chair. I hesitantly sit down as my phone buzzes in my pocket again.

 

_(From Thomas) That fucking blows, when it’s over come over Bradley’s, we’re all over here watching Star Trek again._

 

Watching William Shatner bang some alien chick for the thousandth time would probably calm me down. Craig has returned with two fourteen pound balls. While thankfully the girls reappeared with lighter ones.

 

“Hey Tweek, how do you spell your name?” Clyde asks as he had already typed in Craig’s name as ‘Gay Boy’.

 

“With two es,” I state as I’m still looking down at my phone as a security blanket.

 

I look up to see that Clyde had actually typed ‘With 2 es’ on the board.

 

I sigh and notice that we're playing without bumpers. Well this is going to suck.

 

“Are you guys hungry?” Clyde stretches before we start the game.

 

“I'll go get cheese fries, babe don't worry about it.” Bebe quickly bats her eyes.

 

My phone buzzes.

 

_(From Thomas) i'm getting cock blocked by Bradley right now. This is bullshit. Why won't Kevin notice me?_

 

The loud crash of pins being smacked down begins to bother me.

 

“You suck Clyde.” Jason taunts, I think Clyde only hit five pins? That's pretty good, that's half. Ugh I don't want to bowl and embarrass myself right now.

 

_(To Thomas) I don't know man, just tell him you like him?_

 

That's probably good advice, I wouldn't follow it, but maybe Thomas will calm his boner if he does.

 

Wendy picks up a spare, she seems to be enjoying herself.

 

It's Craig’s turn then fuck. Craig effortlessly knocks down all the pins.

 

“See, being on the bowling team has some benefits!” Clyde laughs.

 

“Yeah Clyde, like being good at bowling.” He flips him off.

 

Interesting, I saunter up next, even the ten pound ball feels heavy in my hands. I hope I don't step over the line and slip.  I wind up my arm and immediately throw the ball into the gutter.

 

My phone shakes in my pocket, god damn it, Thomas.

 

“You can do it Tweek! Just roll the ball down!” Bebe yells to me, like that's not obvious.

 

Her encouragement helps slightly as I manage to actually hit something.

 

_(From Thomas) I've tried that before, I just get nervous and start screaming fuck and cock._

I sigh.

 

_(To Thomas) Then just write it down?_

 

I walked back looking at my phone earning some odd glances, but no comments. The game progressed and Craig dominated the game. He made us look like dipshits. Why even play if he can get five strikes in eight frames?

 

Thomas stopped texting me, so either he told Kevin about wanting to fuck him and died, or he just pussied out.

 

The game ended with my arm sore, Craig hit two hundred while the rest of us couldn't get out of double digits.

 

“Want to fuck around in the arcade?” Bebe suggests, everyone wholeheartedly agrees.

We split off into two groups, as in everyone runs off and I get stuck with Craig Tucker. When we were little we used to fight over petty things. He has a mean right hook. He's still a few inches taller than I am. “I'll get us some tokens.” Craig insists, I really don't want him to spend money on me.

 

Another text alerts my phone.

 

_(From Thomas) Dude, it's been like two hours, where are you?_

 

As I struggle to respond to Thomas, Craig has a fist full of coins in his hand. “Here.”

 

“Oh thanks,” It's only about a few plays on things. Craig and I gravitate towards a driving game. I don't know if he knew that the games with guns made me upset or if it was luck.

 

“Man, if I could actually go one hundred miles an hour on the road, that'd be cool.” Craig mumbles out. I hear him, but let the terrifying thought pass.

 

Craig and I quickly start playing, I'm crashing my virtual car through virtual Paris. This is the life. I feel a finger tap my shoulder. I jump and veer the wheel to the right. Shit.

 

“Hey sorry, Wendy and I are going to the mall. You'll be cool with Clyde taking you home?” Bebe asks like I'll say no.

 

“That's fine, thanks Bebe.” I say semi-concentrating on catching up to Craig.

 

“See you two later.” Wendy follows Bebe out and I lose to Craig.

 

He looks over at me, his sharp dark eyes catch my attention. Note, Craig Tucker has no soul, that's why his eyes are black.

 

“We could play air hockey,” Craig notions, my attention is drawn to Clyde and Jason causing a commotion at one of the zombie shooting games.

 

“Do they always act like that?” I find myself pondering aloud. I quickly slap a hand over my mouth when I realize what I had said.

 

Craig chuckles, it's deep too, fuck, his voice is really deep. “Yeah.”

 

We walk over to the air hockey table and Craig slips in the last of our tokens already. “This place is a rip off.” He states as air gets pumped through the table.

 

Craig ricochets the puck towards my goal as soon as he picks up the puck.

 

“Jesus!” It didn't take long for Craig to get three goals on me. Clyde and Jason saunter over presumably also out of coins.

 

My phone buzzes again as I reach my arm over the table to trip Craig up. It works.

 

“Yeah, beat Craig!” Clyde cheers still looking fucked up.

 

Sadly, I don't score again, “Good game,” Craig’s mouth smirks, it doesn't look like a happy emotion to me, but I take it as an odd victory. I don’t particularly care if Craig is happy.

 

“It's getting pretty late, I should take you guys home.” I'm thankful that Clyde is not willing to abandon us at a shitty bowling alley.

 

_(From Thomas) Did you get murdered?_

 

I start laughing at Thomas’ text, probably not the best move.

 

“What's so funny?” Jason calculatingly questions me.

 

I play it off, I'm trying not to ruin my cool factor. “Nothing, just a funny text.”

 

As we get back to Clyde’s car, “So you texting a girl Tweek?” Clyde wriggles his eyebrows to insinuate that I have a romantic life. “Is it that older goth girl? She always comes in and asks where you are.”

 

Yeah, that's because I know how to not fuck up what Henrietta wants at Harbucks. The answer is good coffee, ding ding ding, points for everyone. I also hang out with her younger brother, semi important. I don't answer him.

 

“Oh! I was supposed to give my number at work, let me type it in your phone.” As Craig and I creep in Clyde’s backseat, I hand my phone over.

 

Jason speaks up, “Hey put my number in too, I don’t have any contacts in my phone. It's a bit too fucking sad.”

 

Clyde laughs, “Fine loser, tell me your number.”

 

“Five, five, five, six, seven, two, two, nine, three, four.” Jason rattles off, I really don't want his number. I'm also jealous and pissed that he can just remember a ten digit phone number, like it's easy.

 

After Clyde finishes, he hands back my phone, I see that Clyde is ‘The coolest guy on earth’. Subjective. He also added Jason as ‘Faggy Jason’. I only know one, that title seems unnecessary.

 

Clyde starts his engine and distracts himself and Jason in the front seat.

 

_(To Thomas) Thank fuck, I think this is over. I'll have them drop me off at Bradley’s. You're still there right?_

 

I notice that Craig is pushing his phone over to me. I’m a little confused until he reaches over and takes it to an add contact screen.

 

“Oh.” I try and discreetly enter my phone number into Craig's phone. I don't know why we're being secretive, but it's better if those guys don't know, probably? I don't know, man. I struggle to remember and sing my phone number song to myself. Craig gives me a strange look.

 

“Tweek, where do you live? I realize I have no fucking clue where I'm going.”  Clyde states.

 

“You know where the Biggles live right?” I try and fix my hair.

 

“Oh yeah.” Clyde smirks, “Say hi to your girlfriend for me.”

 

I'm not sure what he's talking about, I've been pretty gay in front of Clyde before. He doesn't seem like a total douche, but now I have to reconsider everything. “Oh, uh okay?” I must appear dumbfounded since Craig just shrugs his shoulders at me.

 

“It's really not that far of a drive,” Clyde continues talking, I kinda ignore him in hopes that this car ride will end sooner.

 

After successfully drifting off into space, Clyde announces that “We're here, hey Tweek, I'll see you at work?”

 

As I step out of the car, I give Clyde a weak, “Yeah” and a wave.

 

They drive off and I quickly run up to the front door, politely knocking.

 

It takes awhile, but Bradley opens the door, “What are you doing here?”

 

“Oh come on, Thomas didn't tell you?”

 

My heart pounds too many times in my chest for my liking.

 

“He did, but I don't fraternize with a traitor.” Bradley crosses his arms defiantly.

 

“Fuck! Just let him in Bradley.” I hear Thomas from upstairs.

 

“Yeah! Don't be a dick, we should be proud of Tweek for becoming cool.” Kevin’s voice also travels throughout the Biggle household.

 

As Bradley gives up and lets me come in, I pontificate that, “I'm still not cool.”

 

“We're probably just going to play some Mario Party.” Bradley told me as we jog up the stairs into his bedroom. It was pretty late, and my body hurts.

 

Thomas lays himself out on Bradley's bed while Kevin spins in Bradley’s large computer chair. I know when I work my next shift, Thomas is going to explain how he fucked up by not telling Kevin about how much he admires him. Gay. That's the ‘South’ part of me coming out I guess.

 

I shouldn't throw stones, two years ago Thomas and I felt sorry for ourselves since we both didn't have our first kiss yet. While slightly shouting expletives, Thomas let me stick my tongue in his mouth. He told me I was good, he might have been flattering me. I didn't mind then and I don't now.

 

Bradley set up his old GameCube, “Here,” He hands me a controller. This is more my speed.

 

“Tweek, you smell like weed, were you smoking?” Bradley eyes me up and down, I could sense some jealousy or resentment.

 

“They were, I'm probably got contact high. Don't let me near a baby, I'll stick it the oven.” This makes Thomas chortle.

 

“Oh man, Cock! Fuck! That's too funny.” Thomas sounds like he can't breathe. I smile, I missed these nerds today.

 


	2. Obstacle 2

I had to rush home after crashing at Bradley's. It's Saturday, that means that it will be super busy in the morning at Harbucks. 

 

It's the first weekend of senior year, my classes don't seem all that difficult. I'm trying not to think about how I have to learn and juggle applying for college. 

 

I apparently slept for more than three hours at Bradley's, he drove me home in his mother's old mini van. My mother, accepted the fact that I decided to be a dick and stay out. I’m glad that I my circadian rhythm might fix itself this way. I deal with hot liquids at work I should be more conscious when I do it.

 

I bike to work everyday, people ridicule me for wearing a helmet. I really don't want my brain to splatter on the pavement. 

 

Thankfully, Clyde doesn't work until the afternoon. Thomas is going to come in and talk to me about Kevin. He makes the work day go faster when my break isn’t me being lonely. 

 

After chaining my bike to a fence, I try and prepare myself for the day. On the wall when you walk in, a plaque shines in your face, my father's name is engraved. ‘Richard Tweek: Proud Owner’ I scoff, he was bought out, he let them buy Tweak Bros. My father negotiated to become the owner, he sold himself. We make more money now.

 

“Hey Tweek, how are you today?” Mr. Barbrady, my manager greets me, He was kicked off the force, supposedly too old. My father hired Barbrady a few years ago and he climbed up the ranks. He's fairly pleasant to work with. 

 

“I'm fine, Mr. Barbrady.” I smile, I like that I have a boss that isn't a dick hole. 

 

“Sherri, I think? Should be in soon. It's getting cold, today might be busy.” I walk behind the counter and put my apron on. 

 

Barbrady always takes a long time to learn the North Park kids’ names. Barbrady makes a hot chocolate for himself, he's told me many times that he didn't like to taste coffee, just smell it. After he's done, he waddles back into his office, mumbling about the books. 

 

The rush of customers on the weekend doesn't normally start until the afternoon. I receive a text. I'm not supposed to be on my phone, but I don't really think Barbrady minds. 

 

_ (From Thomas) I just woke up, I have to get to therapy and then I'm coming to Harbucks.  _

 

I don't send anything back, he'll come in. The bell on the front door rings. It's Stan Marsh, he has some girl, I think Millie hanging onto to his broad shoulders. They are both notably disheveled. 

 

“Hey, can we get two cappuccinos?” Stan says with confidence. I feel like he should be more discreet with his new girl, I guess. I feel shitty, who cares?

 

“Okay, what size?” People never tell me what size they want. It's not hard. 

 

“Oh, uh, medium.” Stan tells me as Millie rubs her temple, most likely hungover. 

 

I turn around to fiddle with the machines, it doesn't take that long to pour out a cup of Harbucks brand of shit. It tastes okay, but I wouldn't blow three dollars on it. 

 

I cap their cups, I'm not as shaken, I know Stan and have seen Millie before. I spin around again to place their cups down. “That'll be five dollars and twelve cents.” Stan forks over a ten dollar bill. 

 

I hate touching money, I purposefully brought in hand sanitizer for the store just so after every transaction I can rub my hands. I give Stan back his change and he drops the coins into the tip cup that we pretend is a jar. 

 

“Thanks, man.” I try to always thank the people that tip me, it rarely happens so I cherish it.

 

He nods and they sit in a booth and whisper to each other. I'm tempting to try and listen, but I don't really give a shit. I have to concentrate on not freaking out when some North Park assholes come in. 

 

Sherri finally comes in, she's not too late. Even though, she's on the other side of the fence she's pretty cool. She's also the only other teen that works here besides Clyde and I. The rest are adults from North Park, they normally work the weekdays and I don't see them much. Thank fuck for that. 

 

“Good morning, Tweek.” She says to me as she brushes her wavy brown hair out of her eyes. 

 

A few hours pass before Thomas comes in. We have the same therapist, Dr. Quinn, she's fairly helpful I guess, I still have anxiety attacks, but I have less than I was younger. I keep getting told that I have been making progress.  

 

Sherri and I have been working the grind, it was extremely busy once Thomas came in so he just waited in line. He would cover up his outbursts with his arm and pretend to cough. 

 

It's cold so everyone is ordering hot coffees. The machines make it hotter and I'm sweating my balls off in here.

 

Thomas, finally is up to order, “Hey, fuck! Can I get a small latte?” He seems embarrassed, his face is flushing, it's a bit crowded and I know he's not fond of crowds. At least Sherri knows about his disabled and is cool. 

 

After I finish stirring and capping his drink, he pays. The crowd dies down and I'm allowed my fifteen minute break. 

 

We sit in the booth closest to the counter, for privacy and so I can see if Sherri starts to drown. Clyde is on his way so I am not all that worried about that. I'm much more concerned about Thomas’ love life. I'm shallow as water. 

 

I lower my voice, “Did you tell Kevin anything?” 

 

He shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink, “Ah fuck! That's hot.”

 

“Yeah you're supposed to wait.” The fact that the shop is actively loud makes my head hurt. 

 

“Cock! Shit! I don't know what to do about it. It's messing me up.” He rubs his index finger around his one eye. 

 

An older woman from a nearby table stands up and walks over to our table. “Excuse me, but could you not speak in that manner?” She speaks in the way that she thinks always right. That's not a great analogy, but I'm nervous and I hate when people chastise Thomas for something he can't help. 

 

“Cunt! I'm sorry, I have Tourette’s syndrome, perhaps shit! You have heard of it?” Thomas smirks, he's kind of a dick. 

 

“Well you should be more mindful! My children can hear you.” Her curled hair bounces on her head as she scolds him. 

 

I want to tell her to fuck off, I don't get much time to sit on my ass.

 

“Well excuse me!” He blows her off, “So how should I do it?” She walks off in a huff. Hopefully she doesn't come back, I don’t recognize her from South Park. 

 

I catch that he's referring to Kevin. “Just tell him! If you don't, you'll regret it.”

 

“Fuck! It's not that easy.” Thomas places his head on the table. His blond hair almost as messy as mine. 

 

The people thin out, they've had enough time to drink their shit and leave. Only a few stick around, sucking up free WiFi. They come back normally for a second drink or a pastry so I can’t hate them too much. 

 

“Well, you just have to try? Man I don't know you're asking the person who's terrified to ask to go to the bathroom in school.” I tell him, I feel sorry for him, this probably isn't easy. 

 

The bell on the door rings and actually catches my attention. Clyde saunters over in his Harbucks uniform. He looks over at us, raising his eyebrows, “Hey Tweek, already on break?” He questions, I guess thinking that I'm slacking off.

 

I notice that his eyes are bloodshot. “I've been here for four hours.”

 

He ignores me. “You're...Tom? Right?” He’s trying I know. 

 

“Ah shit! Yeah close enough.” He sulks. “I'll be at Bradley's, we'll be playing Civilization, doing homework.”

 

“Homework? Man that's a bummer.” Clyde laments before he walks off to begin his shift. 

 

“I'll see you later, Tweek.” Thomas sullenly takes his warm coffee to go.

 

* * *

 

I'd been working the hard coffee grind as my father used to say. I kick myself for thinking of that. 

 

“I got my eight hours in, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Clyde and Sherri wave me off as I collect my helmet to the small closet we have for our coats when the winter comes.

 

I think they tell me that they'll see me later. 

 

My phone buzzes, weird, no one bothered me all day.

 

_ (From Unknown Number) Hey it’s Craig. _

 

Oh. Huh, I type out a response.

 

_ (To Craig) Hey! I realized that you never gave me your number, thanks for texting me. _

 

I feel like an idiot and unchain my bike, I pedal hard, I want to get to Bradley’s, I’m bored as shit, work makes me cranky. I’ll just sit there. I have to make a stop at my house to grab my laptop.

 

While riding on the sidewalk, the cars that speed down the street appear to fly right by. I’m terribly scared that one might just swerve onto the sidewalk and kill me. 

 

I ride up to the closed garage door, I have to type in the code, it’s four digits, my mother’s birthday, five, eight, six, three. It’s very annoying to me that everything has to have some numerical code to get in. 

 

I roll my bike in after the mechanical garage door takes ages to rise. Another text, I take a bit too long for my liking to grab my phone.

 

_ (From Craig) What’s up? How the hell did you get Clyde to invite you over? No offense. _

 

I take offense. I ignore him as I creep upstairs into my bedroom. My mother is home and I should probably tell her that I’m going over a friend’s house. After packing my backpack with my computer and some books. I trot down the stairs.

 

“Hey mom! I’m heading out! I’ll be back tonight!” I shout, not sure where she is.

 

I hear from her bedroom upstairs, “Be safe!”

 

* * *

 

 

After setting up my laptop and opening my physics textbook, I ignore what's due for Tuesday. Thomas sat next to me on Bradley's bed while Kevin took up a bean bag. 

 

“These god damn barbarians don't let up!” Bradley complains from his desk. 

 

We started a new game of Civilization once I got there. Bradley plays as Washington, Kevin plays as Wu Zetian, for obvious reasons. Thomas always picks Gandhi and plays as aggressively as possible while I normally stick to Dido of Carthage. 

 

We play against computers so our friendship doesn't implode. 

 

My phone shakes, I'm trying to build a farm, I sigh. 

 

_ (From Craig) You there? _

 

_ (To Craig) Yeah, just busy doing homework. I work with Clyde at Harbucks.  _

 

I guess, Clyde didn't tell him? Whatever. 

 

“Who was that?” Thomas gives me a look. 

 

“Oh, Craig.”

 

“Craig Tucker? What's he doing texting you?” Kevin looks up from the game. 

 

“He hung out with me and he made me give him my number.” I explain, this satisfies Kevin. 

 

“Cock! That's cool.” Thomas winks at me as the other two are distracted. 

 

My phone vibrates in my hand. 

 

_ (From Craig) Oh cool, I was wondering, you're smart right? _

 

I smirk at my phone. 

 

_ (To Craig) Yeah, I guess, why? _

 

I'm confused about why he's asking. I'm trying to figure out why. 

 

“End your turn, Tweek.” Thomas nudges me.

 

“Oh shit, sorry.” I click.

 

I'm waiting for a response, I'm not too interested in the deal Bradley is trying to make with Thomas. 

 

_ (From Craig) Would you tutor me? My parents are getting on my ass about not fucking up. I was going to ask Wendy, but I think she's a bit of bitch.  _

 

That's a lot. 

 

“Hey Tweek, what resources do you have?” Kevin catches my attention. 

 

“Oh, I have dyes and wheat, that's it.” I mull over. 

 

_ (To Craig) Yeah I don't mind.  _

 

I do mind. Jesus Christ. 


	3. Barricade

Our game of Civilization ended pretty badly, Kevin wound up betraying most of us. He won by taking everyone's capital. Thomas was one of the first to fall. He didn't take it well considering his crush.

 

Sitting on my porch, I wait for Bradley to barrel down the road in his van to take me to school. I thumb through the texts that Craig and Thomas sent me yesterday.

 

_ (From Craig) So about that tutoring thing, nothing’s difficult yet, but could you come over occasionally and we can pretend.  _

 

When he told me that, I felt morally objected to reject his offer. Craig has his looks on his side, though. 

 

_ (To Craig) But what do I get out of helping you? _

 

I remember texting him that and feeling devious.

 

_ (From Craig) I don't know man, what the fuck do you want? _

 

I think I struck a nerve. 

 

_ (To Craig) I'll think about it, don't be too testy. I don't have to help you.  _

 

That still made me feel incredulous. 

 

_ (From Craig) Fine.  _

 

Simultaneously, Thomas and I texted last night.  

 

_ (From Thomas) Are you making moves on the Craig Tucker? _

 

_ (To Thomas) He asked me to tutor him? I said yes, but only for shits and giggles. _

 

_ (From Thomas) Lucky. _

 

After staring at my phone for too long, they all pull up and honk at me. I'm always the last to be picked up. It's since I live the closest and because I'm particularly sluggish in the morning. 

 

I sit in the back seat next to Thomas. He glances over at me.

 

“So Tweek, you're tutoring, Craig is it?” Kevin turns around from the passenger seat. 

“Yeah, he didn't want to get Wendy's help, so he enlisted me.” I try and keep it short, Thomas told Kevin. Rude. 

 

“Oh, that's good for you? It might be terrible, who knows?” Kevin takes his attention to fiddle with the radio. He puts on one of the weird indie stations.

 

“Wendy Testaburger? How does she hang around that crowd?” Bradley questions, he should be focusing on the road. 

 

“She's friends with Bebe Stevens, who's been dating, Clyde Donovan for awhile now. Craig Tucker is his best friend. It's very easy to eavesdrop and find out.” Kevin riddles off like it's no big deal. Kevin's smart, socially smart? I think he purposefully sticks his nose up at the popular kids, however he still wants to look in from the outside. 

 

“Yeah,” I verify. 

 

“Ah shit! Dick! Is today over yet?” Thomas frowns as Bradley pulls into the clusterfuck of a parking lot. 

 

After Bradley fought for a few minutes to get into his parking spot, we all climb out and shuffle to Park High’s entrance.

 

I kinda ignore my friends to concentrate. I walk with Kevin to homeroom, we're sectioned off by our last names. The fluorescent lights really highlight the bags under my eyes. 

 

It's still fairly early so when we walk into homeroom, only a few scattered people are sitting down.

 

Craig Tucker is among the early birds, he waves to me. I wave back and sit next to Kevin. He pulls out a book from our AP English class, we're reading ‘Their Eyes Were Watching God.’ 

 

I haven't started reading it yet, our teacher talks about it, but she never forces anyone to discuss if they don't want to. 

 

I zone out, I didn't sleep well last night, our homeroom teacher, a portly man, Mr. Hernandez, quickly hands out some slips. He hovers near my desk before handing me the slip to go to the counselor. 

 

“Thank you,” Politeness will be my downfall, I know it. 

 

“Have fun, man.” Kevin says while he’s ensnared by his book, not even glancing at me. He probably figures that it's Mr. Mackey, which it is. Mr. Hernandez chortles.

 

I knew I would probably have to talk to them sooner or later. My anxiety medication is checked in here, my mother micromanages my mental health care. It's a bit of a journey down the stairs to the counselor's office. 

 

I have art class first, so I'm glad I'm not lugging my heavy textbooks around. Just a sketchbook. Thomas is in my class, and we mostly stick together for obvious reasons. 

 

I open the door to hand in my piece of paper saying that they need me. I'm told to wait, I see Thomas sitting there next to some kid I don't know. 

 

“Hey, shit!” Thomas greets me, the dude next to him looks appalled. How does he not know Thomas yet?

 

“Hey,” I respond. 

 

“Tweek?” Mr. Mackey calls out, shutting down the opportunity to talk to Thomas. 

 

I walk into Mr. Mackey’s office, I gander at some of the new photos he has framed around his work space. It seems like he got married recently, how saccharine, I bet he’s so happy.

 

“This is your last year with us, Mr. Tweak. Are you excited?” He clears his throat, I hope I don’t catch a fucking cold. 

 

I don’t particularly think so, “Yeah, new chapter in my life.” I feign a smile, I have no idea what I’m doing. 

 

“It’s been awhile since I last spoke to you, but your anxiety, has it been bothering you in any way?” Mr. Mackey places a hand on his chin.

 

“Not as much, the summertime is usually stress free.” I explain. I’m slightly lying, I’m really nervous about what Craig wants. I don’t mind covering for him, but shit.

 

“That’s good to hear, you can always come to talk about your problems. I’m here for you, Tweek, mkay?” He stands up, signifying that we’re done, I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s busy as shit. Which is good, please don’t talk to me. I know he’s my guidance adult or whatever, but if I breakdown at school, that’s the worst case scenario. 

 

“Okay,” I also stand with my things in my hands. 

 

I walk out back into the waiting room as Mackey calls for Thomas. I decide to head to art class. Homeroom is about to end and I can walk slow enough that I won’t be walking in when there would still be people in there. 

 

Killing time is a bit of a hobby of mine, in my pencil bag, I carry too much hand sanitizer with my art supplies. The bell rings and people start to flood out as I’m still making my leisurely stroll. I pick up my pace to get away from these throngs of people.

 

In my art class, I learned how to create depth within a drawing and that Stan Marsh has herpes. Thomas really got a laugh from that. I wasn’t too sure how the rumor spread, and I’m surprised that some of the underclassmen cared enough to talk about it. 

 

My next class is psychology, I’m semi-interested in why I’m so anxious and why my stomach turns. I probably won’t. I’m cutting it close to being late, I took too long at my locker, I had books to situate and I may have spasmed and dropped my books on the floor like an idiot. 

 

I walk into Ms. Doyle’s class, she smiles at me, and I see someone glare at me, oh shit. Craig’s in this class, I never texted him if he did have a class with me. I don’t have this class with anyone that I particularly care about so I sit near the back. Craig must do the same.

 

I sat in the desk to his left, Ms. Doyle began speaking about how psychological experiments need to be crafted carefully to carry any scientific weight. 

 

After she finished reviewing, she encouraged us to partner up and work together on a worksheet about ethical psychological testing.

 

Craig pretty much decides for the both us that we are working together. “So hey,”

 

“Hey.” I feel a bit awkward. Craig’s adam’s apple protrudes too far out. I should focus on the worksheet.

 

I notice that Craig fills things in at the same pace as I do. “We could talk about it, you know.” I say hopefully loud enough for Craig to hear against the clamor of the rest of the class trying to kill enough time to make the class not drag.

 

“The answer to number six is no, you have to keep the privacy of the subjects. Happy?” Craig flips me off, wow. I scowl.

 

We both pretty much complete the worksheet, I turn to him, “So what’s up?” 

 

“I’m pissed off and sober.” He whispers, oh. Yeah, I guess that would bother me too, I’m angry that I don’t have coffee at the ready or my bed near by.

 

“Cool.” I accidently say to him. 

 

He just glares at me. 

 

The class goes by fast enough that I’m only minorly embarrassed.

 

* * *

Nothing of note happens until lunch time, I’m grateful to have it with all of my three friends, it makes coordinating things much easier. Thomas and I sit next to each other so he can stare at Kevin without it being too weird.

 

“Hey, do you guys hear about Stan?” Bradley excitedly wants to tell us the new gossip.

 

“Fuck yeah!” Thomas exclaims as he pours his lunch out of a brown paper bag. My mother tried making my lunch this morning, I had to shoot her down. She told me she was proud of me. 

 

Kevin sits down a bit later, “Why the fuck did I take all advanced placement classes?”

 

“Because you’re Asian.” Bradley states candidly.

 

Kevin laughs, “If I’m your doctor, I’ll gladly have an accident and take the malpractice suit.” 

 

I feel like eyes are on me as I take out my poorly thrown together ham sandwich from this morning.

“Hey Tweek!” I hear Clyde’s voice getting closer, oh fuck, why?

 

My head pops up, dazed, “Hey?” I say as Clyde takes a seat next to Bradley while Craig follows behind him and plops next to me.

 

“I saw you guys head in together and just sitting with Craig can be a bit of a bummer. This lunch has like no seniors.” Clyde makes an observation as I glance down, he has a feast before him, how do people eat that much?

  
  


“That’s nice,” Kevin snubs them, “So I had the next campaign for Dungeons and Dragons.”

 

“I didn’t know people still played that.” Clyde starts to talk while chewing his food, I want to die. Why did Kevin have to talk about this now? These people are cool, don’t fuck it up already. 

 

“Shit! Yeah of course people do, nerds still exist, man” Thomas elaborates, I just try and eat in silence. 

 

“Don’t be a dick, Clyde” Craig’s gravelly voice scolds him.

 

“Cool your tits, Craig.”

 

The rest of lunch goes by as I stay relatively silent, I didn’t want to talk at all. I didn’t really pay any attention to the conversation, I let it pass me by, it couldn’t have been that important. 

 

* * *

 

The senior health class is a safe haven for people who don’t want to take another year of gym. Us nerds obviously jump on that bandwagon, We all sit in a group, but Craig is also in this class and sits next to me again. I don’t know why he’s choosing to attach himself to me. 

 

Mrs. Rhodes, an elderly woman with frizzy hair, quickly begins the class with lightning speed, “So we’re going to learn more about CPR, when to do it, how to do it, when to call nine one one. Next week we should definitely be getting the dummies. That’s the most fun about learning how to save people’s lives.” Her earnest demeanor and the way she moved around the room made this infinitely better than having boys size you up in the locker room and getting picked last for a game of kickball. 

 

She mostly lectures and her non sequitur way of teaching allows time to fly, I’m exhausted and excited for the day to end.

 

Kevin and I walk to AP English as he nudges me, “Why is that Craig kid hanging around you so much?”

 

“I’m his tutor? I don’t... know.” I want to say fucking, but I feel like that’s harsh so I just oddly hesitate. 

 

“Just watch out, Tweek, he might like want you or something.” Kevin murmurs to me. 

 

“Oh,” I didn’t think that Craig has a crush on me, besides even if he does, who cares?

 

“I didn’t think Craig Tucker was a fag…” Kevin wonders out loud, where I can hear him. Fuck, fuck, fuck, Thomas.

 

We sit in class and analyze a quote about mortality for about a half hour, it’s really deep and I feel like I’m drowning. I have to talk, well text to Thomas. I’m practically ripping my fingernails off for the final bell to ring. 

 

“You okay Tweek?” Kevin can tell I’m a bit up in arms. Ring ring the day finally ends. I’m ready to shove my homework in my bag and probably crush Thomas’s dreams. The rush of everyone trying to escape school annoys me so I just chill at my locker and text Thomas.

 

_ (To Thomas) Holy fuck, Kevin insinuated that Craig had a boner for me and called him a fag, Red alert! RED ALERT! _

 

That should get the message across. I eventually throw my backpack across my shoulders and head out to the van.

 

“Thank fuck that’s over,” Bradley turns on the ignition. Thomas just bounces his leg as we cram into the back.

 

As we drive, Kevin interjects, “I have a theory, I think someone likes Tweek.” 

 

“Who?” Bradley gasps, I only frown while Thomas occasionally let’s out a “Fuck!”.

 

“Craig Tucker.” Kevin, why don’t you just drown me? That would be more productive than this.

 

“Really?” Bradley flabbergasted, drops me off without much more speculation about someone who might think I’m sexually attractive enough to woo. 

 

Thomas texts me before I even get inside my house.

 

_ (From Thomas) Why does Kevin have to be such a hot dick? _

 

I laugh.


	4. The Heinrich Maneuver

These past two days have been fairly similar. I go to school, Craig and now Clyde hang around me. School ends, I either sit around with Thomas alone, or with Bradley and Kevin as well. It’s Thursday, I couldn’t sleep, Thomas wound up plotting about how he’ll have to tell Kevin before he gets into an Ivy League School and leave forever. 

 

I’m trying to distance myself from the inevitable car wreck. I know that I have enough time to shower before everything starts again. Even though it’s still early morning, my parents wouldn't murder me if I choose to shower at five in the morning. 

 

I turn on the bright lights in my bathroom, it really accentuates my facial features in the mirror. My sunken cheeks, pointed chin, wide eyes. I remove my shirt and I actually see my slouched demeanor. I straighten my back, I can see my ribs. Well this was fun, I drop my pants and head over to the shower to turn it on and let the water warm.

 

Letting the shower soak my head made my messy hair fall into my eyes. I cherish these moments where I can make the water so scalding that I turn red. It wakes me up enough that I can get through the day. It lessens my shaking as well. I wash my hair and body, my shampoo smells like ‘black lightning’ whatever that means. It has the fragrance of perfume, it doesn’t matter to me what they call it. 

 

Turning off the shower, I wrap myself into a towel, I still have another hour and a half to kill.

 

* * *

 

There’s tension in the van this morning. “So what’s up guys?” Bradley meekly breaks the silence. 

 

“Nothing much.” Kevin curt.

 

“Fuck!” Thomas proclaims, he doesn’t add anything to his profanity.

 

I worry about if something shook the group. 

 

“Isn’t it funny how Eric Cartman got caught vandalizing Tom’s Rhinoplasty? I heard Butters worry about it yesterday as we left. He has to do like thirty hours of community service.” Bradley, town gossip. He’s so fucking nosy, I cross my legs.

 

Everything blurs a bit for the next hour, that’s what insomnia does to you. I’m sitting in my homeroom and Craig sits next to me. 

 

“Hey Tweek, you did the AP English homework right?” Kevin snaps for my attention.

 

“Oh no, I will do it at lunch.” I stop spacing out and glance over at Craig who’s smirking. 

 

I see that Kevin is disappointed, it’s some questions about what we read, he’s just being anal. 

 

He leans onto my desk though, “Hey.” He whispers. He’s blocking Craig, who is currently the person I’m the wariest of. He knows who I am and keeps talking to me. 

 

“What?” I say at a normal conversational tone, at least I think.

 

“Thomas has been acting weird as shit. You talk to him a lot, do you know anything?” I feel like I’m under interrogation, the lamp is swinging, man.

 

Stall Tweek, stall! “No, I haven’t noticed anything.” Good lie, Tweek. Don’t blow it.

 

Kevin seems pleased enough to turn back to whatever homework he’s obsessing over. Kevin’s been trying to pry for evidence that Craig has a boner for me. I don’t think Craig has shown any of his cards. I’m under the impression that he’s just using me to appease his parents, which is fine by the way.

 

Homeroom ends unceremoniously, I have my drawing pencils and erasers with me. I walk off, this day is unnerving me. I wade through the massive groups of teenagers. The hallways fucking smell like ass and marijuana. 

 

I wander into art class, and take my seat next to Thomas. “There’s a problem.” I tell him, I’m a great informant

 

“Fuck! What?” Some of the underclassmen still glare at Thomas when he cusses. I stare back at them to scare them into submission, they eventually get tired at staring at the freak shows so they turn back around.

 

“Kevin is suspicious. He told me that you were acting weird around him and he thinks something is up.” 

 

“Oh shit, really? I’ve been trying to leave hints. Cock! He’s smart, why hasn’t he figured it out yet?” Thomas genuinely has a devastating face right now. The class begins and I don’t think Thomas is ready to find out the truth. 

 

* * *

 

Craig’s sitting next to me again, he’s looking more broody than usual. I can already tell, that’s fascinating. 

 

Ms. Doyle allows us to discuss the questions in the book as she takes attendance. She’s cool in my books. 

 

“Hey, come over my house today. My mom doesn’t believe that I got someone to tutor me.” Craig doesn’t move his desk like most people do when you get into groups, he just stares at me.

 

“What if I say no?” I ponder, I don’t really feel like ditching my friends, especially if I tell them I’m with Craig. They’ll start shit, and we’re also supposed to play Dungeons and Dragons again. It’s been a while and my level six wizard needs another quest.

 

“I’ll beat the shit out of you, deal?” He smiles, I can’t tell if he’s kidding or not.

 

“Fine, but say that we need to do at my house.” I explain, Bradley gets pissed when I have to cancel on D&D nights. 

 

“Why?” The class starts to quiet and Ms. Doyle takes this as a hint to discuss answers. 

 

I contemplate on leaving Craig hanging, “Because I have other shit to do.” He doesn’t respond, but nods. I’m glad he understands.

 

* * *

 

Lunch is no different from the past three days, Clyde annoys the majority of the table while my friends watch Craig under a microscope. I’m busy scribbling down answers to a book I skimmed while on the toilet.

 

We all mostly eat fast, except Clyde, and are shooting the shit.

 

“So tonight, I’m really excited to expand the story. The king is dead and everything is in ruins.” Kevin smirks, it’s probably going to be cutthroat. It’s a bitch when we play more chaotic stories. No one is ever safe.

 

“Tweek, is that what you meant when you said you had things to do?” Craig nasally shames me, I mean yes, but fuck you.

 

“Uh, yeah. I have to stop at Craig’s first, pretend that we’re going to study.” I explain.

 

“Oooh.” Clyde pokes fun, Jesus, I hope they don’t think that we’re a thing. I can’t go back to having no friends again. I worked hard for this.

 

“I have a few extra character sheets, if you want to play.” Bradley offers.

 

I look over at Craig who just seems baffled. “Uh, sure.” 

 

Flexing his forearms like a dick, Clyde states “I’d play, but I have practice tonight, you know football.” 

 

“That’s a shame.” Kevin emphatically states.

 

This is how Craig Tucker wants to kill me, by invading my friend group and then stabbing me when I least expect it. Lunch ends a little earlier than I want it to, Bradley had a fascinating story about Scott Malkinson and how he might be gay. That means there’s more of them.

* * *

 

I can feel that my friends are skeptical about Craig, and how he just interjected himself into our group already. Health is getting more physical than I like. We were practicing back blows on each other. I was unlucky enough that Craig decides that he wants to slap my back.

 

He’s five inches taller than me and obviously more muscular. When he hits my back with his palm I actually feel the wind leave my lungs. When it’s my turn, I have to put copious amount of energy to even get a reaction from Craig, let alone take his breath away.

 

“If I’m choking, I won’t enlist for your help.” He tells me. Ouch? Who the hell says enlist?

 

“Good, I hope you choke.” Craig flips me off, Kevin sees and frowns. Great. The rest of the class is mostly more lecturing about different health tactics. The next chapter will be about sexual transmitted infections. I am so excited. 

 

The bell rings as Mrs. Rhodes is still speaking, “Oh, I see you all on Friday then, have a good day!” I plan on it.

 

Kevin and I split off from our group, I think some of the smarter kids look down on me because I’m not a regular in the AP classes. I’ve been told to read since I was three years old, excuse me if it’s the only thing that I excel in. 

 

We don’t talk, I think we might have a quiz, I don’t feel confident like at all. It should be multiple choice, I’ll just guess.

 

* * *

 

School ended and I’m not sure where Craig is. Kevin follows me back to my locker.

 

“So you’ll meet us later at Bradley's right?” Kevin inquires, I shrug my shoulders not giving an answer.

 

“Well I’ll see you later tonight. You know we have off tomorrow right? They kinda said it rushed over the intercom.” Kevin pokes fun of a day last year, where I call Bradley crying that why did they ditch me? When in reality it was a day off.

 

“Yeah, yeah I heard.” I roll my eyes and smile. He leaves chuckling to himself. I lean against the lockers, waiting, my phone buzzes.

 

_ (From Craig) Where the hell are you? _

 

I sigh.

 

_ (To Craig) I’m at my locker. _

 

I don’t get a response, but Craig sauntering down the hallway.

 

He doesn’t stop, “Let’s go.”

 

I pretty much follow him for the fifteen minutes walk it take to get to his house. I know I could walk to school every day. Laziness wins out every time and I hate the Earth. 

 

Before we walk up to Craig’s house, he stops suddenly and beckons, “What’s our excuse for going to your house?”

 

Ah shit, now I have to lie for this kid too? “I’ll just say I type up most of my notes onto my computer when I get home. Pretend like that’s an easier way to study.”

 

“Flimsy, but good enough.” Craig continues, “Your friends would be pissed off if I smoked near them, right?”

 

Of fucking course, Craig. “We are a bunch of nerds Craig, what do you think?” Enjoying the way his name sounds, I smile, it probably looks like I'm glad that I was a dick. 

 

“Whatever, don't fuck this up okay?” We walk again, nearing his house and now I feel like I might fuck it up. 

 

Craig practically jogs to the front door. I trudge behind. 

 

“I'm home.” He states as I follow in behind him. His mother appears from the kitchen. 

 

“Who's this?” Her voice more shrill than I imagine. 

 

Craig shuffles a bit, “My tutor.” I look around the living room, on edge. The most noticeable thing is the cross over the archway. It's right over his mother's head. 

 

Craig nudges me, “Oh yeah, I'm Tweek. My family used to have Tweak Bros., the coffee shop.”

 

“Oh I remember that, I know your father, Richard. Craig are you paying this boy to lie?” She crosses her arms, oh shit she might be on to us. 

 

“I don't have any money, mom. I was just trying to show you that I am trying.” He reveals. “Tweek doesn't have a laptop, so we have to study at his house.” That wasn't the lie we agreed on, but I still nod.

 

“Alright, don’t be out too late, I know it's not a school night” Mrs. Tucker leaves us be. 

 

Craig takes the opportunity to get us out of there as soon as possible. 

 

“So where's Bradley's house?” Craig asks me, we start walking again, I know my legs are going to be sore. I whip my phone out. 

 

_ (To Thomas) We're on our way.  _

 

“So how the hell do you play Dungeons and Dragons? You know we're not studying.” Craig states the obvious. 

 

“You roll dice and pretty much role play. It's okay, the other guys like it more than I do.” I explain. 

 

He didn't say anything. I notice that it hasn't snowed since last spring, it's below freezing and the skies are gray. It's been snowy in September before, it will be snowy again. 

 

We waste about twenty minutes before we finally get to the Biggle household. 

 

I knock and Bradley opens the door in no time. “Hey guys, the other two are in the basement. You guys didn't have to walk.” This makes Craig glare at me. 

 

Once we get into Bradley's basement, Craig appears mildly fascinated by all the colorful die. 

 

Maybe, I will teach Craig Tucker a thing or two. 


	5. Pioneer to the Falls

Craig picked up on how to get ahead in D and D fairly quickly. His desire to be a thief really worried me, I hope he's not a kleptomaniac. Our journey to the throne ended with us in the new king’s court. Craig, the spymaster, Kevin, master of the horse,  Bradley the constable, Thomas, page of honor, and I, the grand fool. 

 

Our next playthrough might have plans to overthrow the king. We played well into the night. I fell asleep on the couch in the basement while Craig slept on the floor. I offered for him to lay next to me, but he told me no.

 

My dreams playback old memories with people moving their lips and the wrong words are coming out.

 

Apparently Kevin and Thomas passed out on Bradley's floor. I hope that he didn't do anything stupid.

 

Craig shakes my arm, “You awake?” He gently asks me. 

 

“What?” I'm conscious, I can't believe I got any sleep at all last night.  

 

“It's only ten in the morning.” Craig lets me know. 

 

My phone alerts me to a text message. Craig’s phone has a weirder tone, it sounds like a doorbell. 

 

_ (From Clyde) Yo boy!! You wanna hang out again? _

 

“Did Clyde text you too? We can bullshit that, maybe get him to buy us tacos.” Craig texts something back. 

 

“Thanks.” I rub my eyes, I sit up letting the decorative blanket fall off of me. I notice Craig's hair's a mess, he needs a hairbrush. I guess I can stomach hanging out with Clyde if Craig is there. 

 

Craig stretches out his shoulders, “Should we go upstairs?” 

 

I shrug and mumble, “I guess.” I silently hope that the burglars aren't hiding up there looting.

 

We walk up the stairs nonchalantly. It's bizarre not crashing with the other three.

 

Bradley's mother and sister are in the kitchen, disagreeing about something. 

 

Henrietta crosses her arms, “I am looking for a job, mother. You act like I'm not trying at all!”

 

Her graying hair sways as she speaks, “I know dear, it's just been a couple of years since you graduated high school. You haven't applied to any schools or community college.”

 

Henrietta is about to rebut, but she sees that Craig and I standing there. 

 

“Oh hey, Bradley’s upstairs, did you guys sleep here?” Henrietta gives me a look, like a good job wink for sucking dick or something.

 

“You boys sleep on the floor?” Mrs. Biggle turns her nagging at her daughter into concern for us. 

 

We nod, “I should buy you boys air mattresses, you're always over here, Tweek and…”

 

“Craig.” He finishes her sentence. 

 

Bradley, Kevin, Thomas all chatter and walk into the kitchen coincidentally, I thank them for saving us from talking to Mrs. Biggle for too long.

 

“Hey guys,” I state. This is all too awkward for me. 

 

Henrietta slinks out of the kitchen. 

 

“Bradley, you know you have karate later today, right?” His mother reminds him while Craig snickers. 

 

“Oh yeah! I almost forgot.” Bradley smacks his forehead. 

 

“Yeah. I should probably go home and study, I have like three quizzes tomorrow.” How stereotypical of Kevin, I'm pretty sure one of them is for AP English, but I'm just not caring, it's a Friday morning. I’ll just cram on Sunday.

 

“I'll drive you guys home.”

 

We all disperse to make sure we didn't forget any of our belongings. It didn't take forever to pile into the van. 

 

Kevin successfully calls shotgun and I'm squished in between Craig and Thomas. 

 

“Hey can you drop Tweek and I off at Clyde’s?” Craig states, I didn't really remember, but I wouldn't have minded forgetting and going home. 

 

“Cock! I'm not doing anything, can I come there too?” Thomas asks, now I feel shitty. I look over to Craig like he has any authority. 

 

“Whatever.” 

 

“I'll drop you guys off there first, I guess.” Bradley seems a bit confused, but turns down the street to the Donovan household.

 

The car ride remains silent and this calms me down before more social interaction. 

 

“See you guys later,” We leap out of the van like clowns out of a clown car. I stretch my legs and uncomfortably walk forward. Bradley speeds off.

 

* * *

 

After unpleasantly introducing Thomas, and everyone awkwardly trying to remember his name, we were mostly forgotten due to the exciting development of Wendy being single.

 

Jason was absent, something about work. Token was here now, his wealth leverages him above everyone, he knows this.

 

“So Wendy, did Marsh fuck up again?” He smiles as he leans into Clyde’s bed as she is sitting next to him.

 

Bebe pointedly clears her throat, trying to be inconspicuous, but failing. I even know what’s she’s trying to do. She’s laid over Clyde’s lap, it’s a bit too erotic for this ‘friendly’ get together.

 

“Fuck!” Squeaking Thomas, quickly clasps a hand over his mouth to silence himself. People glance over, nevertheless they ignore the outburst.

 

“Yeah, I guess.” Wendy rubs her own shoulder, a bit forlorn. Her and Stan had been together since they were like ten, on and off, but still.

 

“Hey, man Kenny just texted me, you want to go buy the loud?” Bebe knows to sit up off of Clyde.

 

Token presumes correctly that Clyde is talking to him, “Yeah man, we’ll be right back ladies.” He winks towards to Wendy 

 

As they leave, Bebe repositions herself to sit next to Wendy, “Did he really do that? I mean you guys saw it right?” Bebe polls the peanut gallery, and only gets a few nods and stammers.

 

“Token broke up with Red yesterday, it’s because he knows you’re probably done with Stan. His whole herpes problem is something you don’t want to touch.” It’s like a pent up waterfall, Bebe talks with her hands so she’s very animated. It’s amusing. 

 

“Yeah, that’s not great, do you still like Stan? Cock!” This causes Wendy to laugh.

 

“I mean yeah, I still like Stan’s cock, but I don’t know I feel like this should be the last straw. I’ve given him plenty of chances to not fuck up.” She grits her teeth.

 

“Well, what about you guys? You have any girl problems? We’ve been talking about Wendy’s bullshit for like weeks it seems.” Bebe’s blonde curls dance as my blood pressure rises. I hate people, I especially hate when people ask about a crush.

 

“Oh shit!” That’s right Thomas.

 

“Craig, I know you’re asexual, so I don’t expect much.” Snidely smirking Bebe blows a kiss when Craig flips her off.

 

Her crosshair is now aimed at me, “So Tweek, Clyde’s been telling me you’ve been hanging out with that goth girl...Henri?”

 

Wendy sits there, probably relieved. “Henrietta? She’s just a friend.” I explain for the thousandth time. Clyde must be deaf when I talk to him.

 

“Oh, that’s disappointing. What about you Thomas? You must like somebody.” Bebe hits the jackpot.

 

“Well, fuck! I guess...you know Kevin Stoley?” I feel myself wanting to gasp, I try and stifle it. Craig coughs.

 

“Oh yeah, he’s in a couple of my AP classes, he’s cute.” Reassuringly Wendy smiles and gives a thumbs up, that’s good, but my heart’s racing for Thomas. This is social suicide, now more people know. In intrigue the more people that are on it, the more likely people will find out.

 

“Does he know?” Bebe presses on. 

 

“Oh no, I’ve been too nervous to ever tell him. Shit!” 

 

“Well you should, you shouldn’t want to, then not, and then regret it.” Stark, Bebe, I shiver, the air conditioner is blasting in here to probably offset the smoke. 

 

Shortly after Clyde and Token return with their drugs.

 

They light up and I politely decline just like last time. 

 

“Fuck! I'll try why not?” Thomas gets Craig to hold the lighter as he smokes and coughs. I feel a bit left out and more of a loser now. 

 

I check my phone to have something to look at and preoccupy myself. It's one o'clock already. 

 

Tugging on Thomas’s sleeve, “Hey Thomas, we have to go at two.” I say purposefully trying to hide the fact that we have therapy. I really don't like people knowing that I'm not stable. 

 

“Oh yeah we have therapy! Ah tits!”

 

Wendy pouts a little, I remember that Craig is stirring next to me. His hands were trembling, I noticed. 

 

“Don't worry guys I'll take you when you have to go.” a toothy smile from Clyde doesn't help the shame that washes over me. 

 

* * *

 

I can tell I'm too tense as I sit in the passenger seat, Clyde didn't say much, he just blares music from the radio. Thomas appears to be happy from what I can see in the rear view mirror. 

 

I had to repeatedly tell Clyde where to go. I slightly thank god when we arrive safely. 

 

The waiting room for Dr. Quinn is fairly tiny, there's a small LED television playing some boring cable talk show.

 

The receptionist calls out, “Tweek Tweak? Dr. Quinn is ready to see you.”

 

Shuffling my feet into her office, I still feel a little nervous even though, I see her once a week.

 

I sit down, straighten my back in the large armchair. 

 

“How are you doing Tweek?” She asks from her desk, reaching out a hand to shake mine. 

“I'm doing well,” I smile, relax Tweek, you've talked to Dr. Quinn plenty of times. 

 

“Last time we spoke of your new coworker, Clyde correct?” She flips through her paperwork. 

 

“Oh yeah, he actually drove me here today, he's a lot nicer than I thought.” 

 

“I'm glad.” Her grin brightens the room. 

 

I tell her about Craig and Thomas’s whole fiasco. She's very receptive in my nervousness and when to talk me down back to reality, normalcy. 

 

My session only lasts about thirty minutes and I can feel a definite weight lift off of my shoulders. 

 

I walk back out and Thomas takes my place, I'm worried that he's too involved with his crush on Kevin. I wait for his therapy session to end by checking my phone incessantly.

 

_ (From Craig) Therapy? What for? _

 

He texted me about an hour ago. 

 

_ (To Craig) You know anxiety, good stuff, man.  _

 

I was never entirely comfortable with sharing my problems with others. 

 

_ (From Craig) That's a bummer.  _

 

I'm not really sure what to make of that, but he texts me again. 

 

_ (From Craig) So is Thomas gay? _

 

I fiddle with my thumbs, I'm not sure how to answer that question. 

 

_ (To Craig) I guess? He does want to fuck Kevin, so I'm pretty sure.  _

 

Chuckling to myself, Craig responds in rapid time. 

 

_ (From Craig) Lol, true.  _

 

He didn't text me again so I leave Craig alone. 

 

I waste time on my phone until Thomas is finished speaking with our doctor. 

 

His eyes are bloodshot, we’re back on the street walking in no time. 

 

“I feel really better, man. I think I’m going to tell Kevin.” Thomas explains.

 

I try and be supportive, but I don’t really give him any sound advice. I’m just going to let that play out.

 

* * *

 

It’s already Saturday morning, I woke up a bit past my alarm so I had to run out of my house as fast as possible. 

 

Mr. Barbrady didn’t mind that I was a few minutes late. The rush was slow for some reason. It just gave me more time to worry about my future and Thomas mostly. 

 

_ (To Thomas) Are you really going to do it? _

 

No one’s in line and Sherri is also breaking rules. I hit send in hopes of persuading him.

 

I get a quick enough of a response.

 

_ (From Thomas) Why do you think it’s a bad idea? _

 

I bite my tongue, Yes. Clyde’s already coming in for his shift, this day is going fast. Good.

 

“Hey Tweek,” He greets me.

 

Sherri takes her break, she’s been working harder than I have. I also don’t care about the customers all that much. 

 

“So Thomas likes Kevin eh? That’s cool.” I’m really glad I wasn’t holding a drink when Clyde sputters this. Jesus Christ, this is bad, bad, bad.


	6. The Scale

I’m currently losing a fight to my pants, they're too tight and refuse to not be inside out. I'm dreading another day of school. The Corgan and Stoley volcano is about to erupt. I just hope I'm not one of the people that gets engulfed in flames. 

 

This weekend, bothered the fuck out of me, Clyde pestered me about Thomas the whole time at work. I am an informant, but leave me alone man, after I tell you that I don't know. What makes people think that I’m lying when I say that I do not know?

 

My phone vibrates on my desk scaring the shit out of me, I almost drop dead, it's so loud. 

 

_ (From Thomas) I'm going to do it! I think I  might text him about how I feel.  _

 

I glance at that message, my stomach drops as I shove my right leg into the left leg hole.

 

“Fuck!” I exclaim, this is putting me behind schedule, Bradley and them will be here before I know it.

 

_ (From Thomas) I sent it, the ride might be awkward, but whatever. I'm glad I did it, man. You think I did the right thing? _

 

I finish throwing on my clothes haphazardly, shit, this is going to blow. I grab all of my notebooks and run downstairs. 

 

Sorting through some paperwork, my father sat at the kitchen table. This is one of the rare mornings in which I catch him. 

 

“Hey Tweek! How are you doing?” He asks while taking a swig of coffee. I'm slightly jealous, but I have ins at school to get coffee. By ins, I mean the school nurse, she's cool and has a coffee pot in her little office. I actually slept so. 

 

“I'm fine, just waiting for my friends to take me to school.” I say, slowing inching my way out of the house, I prefer to not to hear a long blown out speech by my father, they have lost their weight. 

 

“Well, that's good.” He focuses back on his work and this allows me to slip past our wooden front door. I sit on my porch, check my phone, breathe heavy, worry.

 

_ (From Craig) Hey.  _

 

I remember that didn't text back Thomas, I just thought I did. I'll ignore it, abstaining might be the best option right now. If it turns into a witch hunt, I'm gay witch number two.

 

_ (To Craig) What? _

 

I decide to be curt, Craig's been on my radar as suspicious for awhile now, him texting me everyday is wild. Wow. I'm a dick. 

 

_ (From Craig) Change your pad, I was just trying to say hey.  _

 

I don't dignify him with a response, my ride is here.

 

Buckling my seatbelt and noticing that no one's talking, Thomas looks like he's about to cry, I can guess things went poorly. Fuck me. 

 

_ (To Thomas) What happened? _

 

Thomas seems surprised, I'm obviously not going to say this out loud. 

 

Eyes in the front seats quickly peek back and they both shoot back to the road like they should. They need to watch the road, not the intrigue that’s happening back here, even if it’s more interesting and entertaining.

 

_ (From Thomas) Nothing’s happened, this is shit! _

 

The rest of the ride is as bumpy and awkward as it could get. 

 

On the way to homeroom, I witnessed Scott Malkinson get shoved into a locker and called a fag. I wanted to fight this battle, but I couldn't risk it and I was running late. 

 

Sitting slouched behind Craig Tucker has become the new way I shield myself from people talking to me. It didn't always work, like right now for instance. 

 

A sweet voice squats next to me, “Tweek, you know how student government is getting voted on soon, right?” Wendy Testaburger, who normally is busy running off on errands is bothering me for some bizarre reason. 

 

I’m certain that I don't know anything about that, “Yeah.”

 

“Well, I thought you needed just your vice president on the ticket, but we also have to have a treasurer. Kyle and I didn't account for that. So I wanted to ask you, you don't really have to do much. I promise.” She explains. 

 

Uhh. Fuck it. “Sure, just let me know when you need me.” I say, fake smile. I'm not sure why she's asking me, that's seems like high profile as shit. 

 

“Thanks, Tweek, I know I can trust you.” She tells me with that confidence only Wendy Testaburger has. She walks away and Craig is the next person to bother me. No surprise.

 

“Why’d she ask you to do that? You don’t seem like the figurehead type.” Craig taps on my desk. 

 

I shrug my shoulders, Kevin takes a seat next to me, it’s about Thomas.

 

“So do you know?” Craig and I both look at him, he seems a bit flustered. 

 

Of course, I know, but, “About what?” Feign innocence Tweek, you’re good. Craig sneers at me. He knows. This is stressing me out.

 

The time in homeroom is short enough that Kevin being annoyed or confused by Thomas’s crush is over quickly. 

 

We convene in art class to paint, we’ve moved from sketching, I think the variety excites Ms. Williams. Thomas and I had our easels situated in the back of the class, we were challenged to only use one shade of color. 

 

I take the time to talk to Thomas instead, we have a few more days and I can furiously paint another time. “Kevin doesn’t seem happy.”

 

“Fuck! Yeah I know, why did I pick red? This looks like a massacre.” Thomas frowns as he puts down his brush. 

 

“It’s just, ugh shit! This might ruin the friend group, I don’t want to go to lunch now.” Eyes begin to water, shit he’s going to cry. 

 

Do something Tweek, “It’ll be fine, just say it doesn’t have to be weird and if Kevin does make it weird, then he’s the weird one.” I feel stupid, but Thomas smiles at me.

 

This is torture, the bell rings and I’m a bit unmoved by my art, but I’ll have to deal with it later in the week. 

 

I move on to my Psych class, I need to stop at my locker, for books and I want to check on my phone. I almost fuck up my combination, however I'm not that pathetic in terms of my dexterity. 

 

Chucking my books in, I press my phone on. Only one new message. 

 

_ (From Faggy Jason) Did you do the psych homework? _

 

I mean, I think I did, I forgot that Jason even had my number. It's too late for him to copy it. Fuck it, I'm not talking to him. 

 

Running to class isn't the best idea, it makes me look like a lunatic. I arrive on time and class begins. It's all fairly monotonous. 

 

It's difficult for Craig to talk to me for too long in this class. His jaw clenches once he realizes that time is almost up. 

 

As the bell rings and we stand up, he whispers, “Kevin’s going to be a dick, huh.”

 

I guess so, Craig.

 

* * *

 

Lunch is awkward, Kevin is agitated, Clyde keeps wiggling his eyebrows. 

 

“So how is everyone?” Bradley, oh Bradley. 

 

“Shitty.” Thomas fiddles with his French fries. 

 

“Well, the football team will have its first game next weekend, you guys should come out to watch.” Clyde smiles, ugh he makes it hard to say no. He's so dopey and innocent. 

 

“Do you really think we'd like football?” Wow, Kevin, harsh. I choose to say nothing. 

 

“That sounds fun,” Bradley nudges Kevin. 

 

“Fuck, shit! I have to go…” Thomas’s voice trails off as he gets up from the table.

 

Thomas fled from us.

 

“Dude. This is bad, we have to talk to him.” How diplomatic of you Bradley, he mutters. 

 

“Yeah!” I sound too ready, excited to defend Thomas. 

 

“It's not that simple, I don’t want to hurt his feelings.” 

 

“Just go out with him dude, it couldn't be that bad.” Clyde waves a chicken finger as he suggests. 

 

“I'm not gay.” Kevin snarls.

 

We all sit in silence as Thomas never comes back. 

 

We all walk to health class a bit scattered. I have a feeling no one wants to talk. 

 

Before I go into Mrs. Rhodes class, someone tugs on my sleeve. 

 

“Hey, I told my parents you were tutoring me today.” It's Craig, I'm not surprised. 

 

“Yeah sure,” He was distracting me, I was trying to beat Kevin here so I could psychically talk to Thomas. 

 

I achieve this by being a bit of a bitch by effectively ignoring Craig. Craig sits behind me while I sit next to Thomas. 

 

“It'll be fine.” I assure him. 

 

“Fuck! Yeah, I guess.” Thomas pouts, it doesn't suit his face. 

 

Mrs. Rhodes, at her desk peers up, “I'm sorry for eavesdropping boys, but is everything okay?”

 

“Oh cock! Yeah, just rejection, normal teenage stuff.” A sighing Thomas makes me want to cry sometimes. 

 

“I'm sorry to hear that, if you need to talk, any of you. I'll gladly lend an ear after class. Especially if it relates to anything we're learning, there's nothing wrong or unsexy about knowing what goes on with penises and vaginas.” She shuffles papers like she didn't just make things uncomfortable. 

 

I smile at her anyway. 

 

Kevin and Bradley shuffle in and sit farther away. The true sign of betrayal. Class takes its toll, I want to nap.

 

With one class to go, Kevin and I diverge from the group. 

 

“Tweek, do you think I'm being like, I don't know.” Kevin sighs. 

 

“If you don't like him, you don't like him.” I feel terrible for Thomas. I know how much he wants, likes Kevin.

 

“I have shit to do.” Kevin tells me, before I have time to sit down, I'm bombarded by Wendy, she's a bit frantic.

 

“So I forgot that you had this class, but this is perfect. Kyle suggested that this weekend we go to his house to write slogans, speeches, make signs. You know, simple stuff.” She pauses to take a breath. Yeah, easy stuff. “You're a cashier? You should be good with money. Still you won't have to do much. I'll talk more later.” She goes to sit down, a majority of the class does not hide their gazes at us.

 

I roll my eyes. I pretend that I'm invested in this class, I'm really regretting the confidence that I had to sign up for this class. 

 

* * *

 

School ended abruptly, we were all lagging behind, Craig again, wordlessly took a ride from Bradley, who never questions him. No one really questions what Craig Tucker or what I do for that matter. 

 

All four of us were standing around Bradley's van, while Kevin told us a story about his Chinese grandmother that pretended to be a man to fight in the Vietnam War.

 

I find Thomas in the crowd leaving the school building, I wave him over.

 

“Ah fuck! It's still cool if I bum a ride? Shit! Cock!” I could hear the fear in Thomas's voice. I think we could all hear it.

 

“Fuck yeah, you're still our friend. How else would you get home?” Bradley eagerly hops in the driver seat, “Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

 

Being the first stop allows for some tension to leave the van. Thomas waves goodbye, and they leave Craig with me at my house. 

 

“I don't think my mom is here.” I tell him and he just follows. 

 

* * *

 

We end up in my bedroom, not studying. We're just sitting on my bed, flipping through channels. 

 

“Sorry for like barging in, my mom was getting on my ass. So I needed to not be in the house.” Craig huffs. “You knew about Thomas right? Like the whole time?” He questions me. 

 

“Yeah,” Revealing my cards, it’s out in the open. 

 

“So I can tell you a secret? You'll be quiet about it.” He states, he looks very serious, I'm just trying to come down from my school anxiety. I nod furiously. 

 

“You'll have to tell me one too. Can't just trust you blindly.”

 

“Why?” I ask blinking at him, I'm not really sure what he's on about.

 

“Do you have something to hide?” Craig’s eyes narrow, Jesus, fuck, yes. Who doesn’t have something to hide?

 

“No. I'll tell you, just tell me.” Crossing my arms defiantly.

 

He flips me off, “You first,” his smile makes me forgive him. 

 

“Well, I like...dudes too. I mean, I think it's obvious.” I begin to stammer, I'm unnerved, why did I do that?

 

“It’s not obvious.” He states, “That's heavier than what I had. My parents are divorcing. I just didn't want to tell Clyde, he can't keep his goddamn mouth shut.”

 

“Oh yeah, I knew that. About Clyde, I mean, I'm sorry about your parents.” Sincerely. 

 

“Don’t be. They were going to wait until Ruby, my little sister, I don't think you know her, was going to turn eighteen.” He rolls his eyes. “I just needed to tell someone.”

 

“Yeah, I understand.” I don't, I'm just flattered that he thought to talk to me. My heart flutters.

 

“Just don't fucking tell anyone, clear?” He grins, playfully punching my arm. 

 

“All clear.” Weirdo, this is nice though, for now. 

 


	7. Rest My Chemistry

Well, everything has been off kilter, Craig's been sticking to me like glue. I actually don't mind speaking with him constantly. 

 

_ (From Thomas) It hasn't been terrible with Kevin, but Bradley is acting weird around me.  _

 

I laugh at this, Bradley is weird.

 

_ (To Thomas) Yeah, well we have the majority, Craig counts now, so they can't even kick you out of the group.  _

 

I'm texting while making coffee, I’m multitasking, I'm proud. I woke up early enough to get my shit together. 

 

_ (From Thomas) Craig is cool with me? _

 

Craig told me recently that he thought Thomas was and I quote ‘fucking cool’ albeit for the wrong reasons. Coffee beeps to yell at me that it's hot enough, I smile over coffee and Craig. I'm doing so well, fuck yeah!

 

_ (To Thomas) Yeah, he's a dork too. One of us, one of us! _

 

I pour a little too much sugar in my drink. It's too sweet and tastes like shit. 

 

_ (From Thomas) Do you think Craig is gay? I'm trying to distract myself from Kevin, by the way I'm still holding out hope that he might be bi or something.  _

 

He sent a sad emoticon with his text. Settling at the kitchen table, I frown as well, way to harsh my mellow.

 

_ (To Thomas) I don't think so, he's befriended me by accident probably. I'm still pretending to tutor him for his mom.  _

 

Sipping my hot drink, I burn my tongue, fucking great. My phone screen flashes. 

 

_ (From Thomas) At least tomorrow's Friday. The guys are here to pick me up. See you soon gay boy.  _

 

Sighing, I chug the rest of my coffee, still scalding. I'm pretty sure I'm ready for another fun day at school. Who am I kidding? It's going to be annoying. 

 

Bradley's car is freezing as shit, his excuse of his car's heater being broken does not satisfy me. It's like twenty degrees outside. I'm only wearing my tan winter jacket. There's a zipper so I never have to look too stupid. Buttons are the devil. 

 

“So my mom and Henri really blew up at each other last night!” Devilishly grinning from the driver's seat, Bradley glances at Thomas and I through the rear view mirror.

 

“Yeah you guys really missed it, I almost called the cops.” Kevin explains, he's kind of self-important I decide. 

 

“Cock! That sounds insane, what happened?” Thomas does the imploring for the both of us. I don't particularly want to know, family's fighting each other makes my stomach upset. 

 

“Well my mom was bitching at her about freeloading, and she threatened to kill herself again. So she's going back to rehab.” Bradley says without much remorse for his sister. 

 

I worry about her. “That sucks.” I catch myself saying by accident. 

 

“I guess.” Bradley shrugs his shoulders emphatically. 

 

“Hey Tweek, you ready for the quiz today?” God damn it, Stoley, why do you have to be such a buzzkill?

 

“Yeah, of course.” I lie, I only pretend to be smart to impress my friends. I don't really care that much about school. I still don't know what I want to do about my future. 

 

Stalling in homeroom, Craig and I are playing tic-tac-toe in my notebook. 

 

“Stop cheating, dude.” He focuses on my eyes, I'm still a little scared to stare back. It almost looks like he doesn't have an eye color. I don't believe that his eyes are brown. Craig is definitely a demon, here to torture to me. 

 

“I'm not cheating. Why would I have to?” I sigh, Kevin chuckles next to me. 

 

“Come on, best four out of seven,” He scribbles the lines with his pen on the paper.

 

“We've tied like five times, Craig.” His face sours, I enjoy saying his name, one syllable.

 

“Yeah, well, fuck you.” He smiles, what a strange boy. 

 

My heart's swelling, this is bad. I never thought that I would find anybody in South Park even remotely suitable for myself.  Sure, I get how Thomas has a boner for Kevin, he's smart, a bit of a dick, fairly attractive. Thomas is cute in a weird pixie kind of way? That doesn't make sense, I'm just a hormonal teenager who would probably be excited if any dude took interest in me, and now I'm deflated. I want to go to bed. 

 

“Draw your damn X Tweek, it's your turn.” He tells me, I pick the center square, obvious. Before we can finish our game, the bell rings and I'm off to art.

 

Walking through the hallways is painful, it's like standstill traffic. I get to my first class on time. I can feel the sweat under my arms, gross, I'm wearing two shirts, the heating in this school is turned up way too high.

 

Setting up our easels, today's the last day before this monochromatic project is due. 

 

I hate what I'm doing, but I ferociously brush color onto the canvas for forty minutes until I'm satisfied. Hearing some whispering, Thomas pokes my back. 

 

“You okay, dude? Fuck! You've been like dazed out.” He tells me, I gaze at my work, the gradient of dark blue to white from top to bottom appeases my senses, especially considering what everyone else did. Works of the younger students looks like finger painting, I smugly chuckle.  

 

“I'm good, just had to actually do shit, you know?” I nodded as we had to move on to our next classes.

 

Departing from Thomas, I sigh, one down and five to go. 

 

* * *

 

Our psychology teacher seems to be blathering on about morality or something. She says to answer the questions in our textbook. 

 

“Hey,” Craig snaps his fingers at me, rude.

 

“I know, who else would I work with.” I tell him, gaily crossing my legs, no one's looking and it's how I like to sit. 

 

“Very funny,” He pouts while he slides his desk closer to mine. 

 

We were supposed to discuss the ethics of an experiment. 

 

“Morality is subjective,” He tells me, I kind of agree? My stomach interrupts me, grumbling. I'm fucking hungry and I'm not allowed to do anything about it. I ignore him. 

 

After a few moments, Craig pokes my wrist, “Is something wrong?”

 

“I'm fine, Craig, let's just get this shit done.” God damn, he's just a weird kid, don't expect too much, Tweek.

 

“I'm just trying to help.” Words cut deep. I know I made a displeased face in front of him. 

 

“Yeah,” I say, I let the class pass on without much thought. He's fucking me up. 

 

The bell rings and Craig follows me to my locker, he doesn't say anything though. His silence is welcomed for now. I have to study or some nonsense. 

 

It's time to eat thankfully as Craig and I part to grab our food. Kevin catches up with me.

 

“You know we're getting our tests back today in English, you do well?” Stoley slaps my back. Unwarranted and unwanted, yet I just grimace. We are not even going to that class. 

 

“I think I did fine,” I don't care about my grades. Kevin still hasn't dealt with Thomas, I'm beginning to resent him for it. 

 

Accepting my answer, “Have you talked to Thomas?” Closing in on me as we walk to the lunchroom. I mean, duh I fucking talk to him. Ugh, this is pressure, I know it, and it's bullshit. 

 

“Why don't you talk to him?” Both of them would be lost without me. 

 

That shuts Kevin up until we arrive at the table. 

 

The rest of the gang eats with us like everyday. This is what having friends is.

 

Picking at my homemade lunch, no one's saying much. 

 

“Hey, why the long faces? The first football game is this Saturday night! You guys should be excited!” Clyde breaks the silence.

 

“Shut up, Clyde.” Craig flips him off, so aggressive, I could almost swoon.

 

“We'll be there for sure, right guys?” Bradley sweeps his eyes across, Kevin, Craig, and myself. We nod and shrug our shoulders.

 

“Yeah, after we can play another quest.” Kevin refers to our D&D game. Thomas lamented to me yesterday that he was worried that he would be kicked out of the game. I worried too, but that isn't that case, so why does my chest still hurt?

 

I hate the sandwich that I made this morning.

 

We continue to eat until we have to leave, health class is always a breath of fresh air. 

 

My legs hurt, and I don't feel like walking all the way to class, I feel terrible when I see Jimmy Valmer cracking a joke next to his locker a few moments later. 

 

“Hey!” Bradley whispers, to mostly me and Thomas. 

 

“Cock! What?” 

 

I hope my face also alerts Bradley to just tell us whatever dumb gossip he had. 

 

“Kenny McCormick apparently has syphilis, you haven't heard it from me.” He winks, I feel bad when I'm right, but if it's right, it's right. 

 

Everyone sits at their desks and behaves. Seniority comes with discipline, I shudder when I even think about Freshman year for a second. 

 

“Good afternoon class, we didn't get the CPR dummies yet, I am a bit annoyed, but I do have a short film that I found that I thought would be helpful.” Mrs. Rhodes explains as she rummages through her desk and purse. I'm only paying attention because I think I care for my teacher, which makes me feel really gay. 

 

Craig hands me a note, by hands I mean places a folded piece of paper on me desk. He wasn't even that discreet about it. Does he want to get disciplined?

  
  


I carefully open the note, the film is about a car accident and what to do when it occurs, I'm horrified. I guess I should be paying attention because it's probably going to happen to me eventually. Automobiles were the worst thing invented, I swear.

 

_ I'm coming over your house, don't look so terrified all the time, you're like a deer in the headlights.  _

 

_ -Craig _

 

He signed his note to me in cursive, that's pretty gay. I give him a thumbs up and don't write back. 

 

I close my eyes for a few moments, watching a movie allows for me to recharge. It's not like there's much left to do. 

 

After not doing anything all day, I exaggerate, it's time for my final class. Hooray!

 

“You okay Tweek?” Kevin waves a hand in my face as we stride down the hallway. “You look out of it.” 

 

One, I am, two, shut up. 

 

“Yeah I'm fine.” We travel to the smart people class, I feel like I'm infiltrating a secret club when I'm in this class. They all talk about college and where they want to go after June. 

 

Wendy waves me over to her desk, I smile unintentionally. I think I was just pleased to have someone else acknowledge my existence. 

 

“I need to talk to you, Kyle told me that Cartman is running for president as well.” She tells me in her professional voice. Sometimes I feel like Wendy is much older than she is. 

 

“That sucks.” i say while Kyle also joins our conversation, making me jump a bit. 

 

“Yeah, you're telling me Tweek. So you're good for Sunday afternoon? It’ll be at my house.” Kyle explains, his red hair is really vibrant, wow.

 

“I mean I work weekends, so I, uh might be a little late, if that's okay.” 

 

“Yeah, don't worry about it Tweek,” The bell deafens me and I have to sit down next to Kevin. 

 

Our teacher begins to hand out the graded papers, my old test lands on my desk. My stomach flips, I failed, only sixty percent? Jesus, fuck me. 

 

“How'd you do?” Kevin whispers to me, I'm ashamed, I don't want to admit that I fucked up. 

 

“If you didn't do well on the test, this quiz should help, don't worry too much about it.” Ms. Gatlin, encourages us, she's fairly spry. 

 

“Bad,” I say quickly to Kevin. I didn't want to lie to him. 

 

Tackling the quiz in front of me, it's actually a bit easier than I expected, I probably should have studied. 

 

The quiz took up a majority of the time, after some quick discussion, school ended. What a relief. Kevin and I collect our belongings and head to our lockers.

 

“Bad? Like, how bad?” Kevin's, of course, worrying about grades. 

 

“I failed dude, it's not a big deal.” I tell him, trying to play it off. 

 

I lag behind most of the people who enjoy running out of the classroom as soon as the day ends, Kevin waits for me.

 

I expect him to say something to me, however he doesn't we just walk to our lockers. 

 

Kevin's voice startles me, “You know if you need help, we can study together, dude. You're my friend and I know Thomas accidently made things weird, but we're still all friends and I mean that.”

 

“Yeah definitely.” I'm a little embarrassed, but laugh to myself thinking about the chain of helping going on. I don't think Craig would think it's funny that his tutor is also getting help. 

 

I quickly shove things in my bag, I feel oddly rushed, I think it's because I'm trying to save face by leaving as quickly as possible.  

 

The cramped car ride is jovial, no one really says much, besides the occasional ‘fuck’ from Thomas. 

 

Craig gets out with me and I almost forgot that he said he was hanging out with me again. 

 

After placating my mother with a synopsis of how my day went, Craig and I lounged on my bed. Sitting pretzel legged as I hunch over looking at my laptop. 

 

“Are we actually going to study one of these times or no?” I ask, just seeing what this was really about. I doubt that it's an ulterior motive, yet I just want to know what Craig's deal is.

 

“Fuck no. Why?” He sneers, his torso is stretched out as he lays on his back. 

 

“Just curious.” A few minutes pass by. Craig eventually straightens his back to be more level with me. 

 

Craig places a hand on my computer, he closes it. 

 

“What the hell?” I say a bit fast, no one fucks with my Internet. 

 

“This.” It happens fast, but The Craig Tucker is putting his dry lips onto my, most likely also dry lips. 

 

I place a hand on my mouth to see if I need chapstick, as well as in shock. They were right about him. 

 

“What the fuck?” I decide is the best thing to say. 

 

“What? I thought you were into guys?” He states. 

 

My defenses go up, “What makes that be you specifically?”

 

“I don't know, what? Was that your first kiss?” Craig says, looking a bit nervous for once. 

 

“No, you're not.” I pointedly smirk and ask. “I'm your first?”

 

“You're not even the first dude I've kissed, and let me guess, Thomas?” He can read me way too well, shit. 

 

Throwing my arms up in disbelief, “Who the hell have you been kissing? You better have not given me mono!” 

 

He explains, “Some of the North Park kids, Jason, well he was drunk and kissed me. Clyde makes fun of him for it. It wasn't bad. I don't have mono and was I right about Thomas though?” 

 

I mumble, “Yeah.” I have so many questions for him. 

 

“Look if you want me to go, I'll go.” He simply states in the same god damn tone. I can tell he's disappointed somehow. 

 

“Don't go, I don't care that you kissed me, just warn me next time.” I grab his wrist. 

 

He stammers, “Cool, I uh, might like you, but don't be a fag about it.”

 

I let go of his wrist, “Sure.” 

 


	8. All the Rage Back Home

Huddling under the bleachers doesn't help the coldness problem. I'm holding a freezing beer can, it doesn't taste very good, Craig gave it to me. It felt rude to deny it, so I'm slowly sipping it and trying not to vomit. I can't believe I called off work for this. 

 

Only Thomas stands next to me right now, Craig had to talk to Kenny. Bradley and Kevin decided to bail, I don't blame either of them. 

 

“So, cock! Is this everything you've ever dreamed of?” Thomas laughed, under the bleachers only the degenerates belonged, and there was only a handful, most of us were South Park kids. 

 

“Yeah, this is exactly what I imagined this to be.” I say sipping my beer, my back is hurting, I try to stretch it out, and I only earn a weird look from Thomas.

 

Craig and Token return back to us, they both are smiling, Kenny McCormick is tagging along behind them.

 

“Do you guys know where Bebe and Wendy are?” Token decides to ask us, I’m glad that he thinks that we were knowledgeable enough to have information of the whereabouts of the two most popular girls from South Park.

 

“No.” I say as Thomas chuckles next to me.

 

Kenny has his parka on, I wonder if he wears traffic cone orange so cars don’t hit him? “They’re probably sitting, dude.” He muffles beneath the cloth of his jacket.

 

Token attempts make himself presentable and presumably goes to find the girls. 

 

Craig and Kenny continue standing with us and begin smoking cigarettes into our mouths. 

 

“You smoke?” I find myself asking Craig, I’ve seen him with his bong, so maybe I shouldn't be that surprised. 

 

“Obviously.” He tells me through his teeth. 

 

“So, Kenny, fuck, are the rumors true?” Thomas stutters as he fiddles with the can in his hand. 

 

Kenny drops his cigarette and stomps it out, I worry that he might set ground on fire, even though that the ground is slightly frozen and there's snow to put out the flames.

 

“Which ones?” The way that Kenny iterates these words unnerved me. Like Thomas should shut up. 

 

“Cock, someone told me you had an STD, and I was just worried and wondering.” He admits, Craig and I share a nervous glance for a moment

 

“Oh that again? Do you believe everything you hear? I'm gonna go sit down, see you later.” He purposely flips his hood back up with his hands, I don’t get why everyone fawns over Kenny. It's probably only because he sells everyone drugs and alcohol, I nod to myself. 

 

“That's bold.” Craig cracks a smile, and in turn I see that Thomas is as well. 

 

“We should probably sit down, it'll start soon.” Craig nodded as we discard our trash in the snow. I hate that we're littering, but what to do when there's no trash cans and you're drinking contraband. 

 

We find a high row in the bleachers, we blend in with the majority of the Park county kids. It's only forty degrees so we're huddled together more closely than I like. Both of their legs are touching my thighs.

 

After ‘tailgating’ or whatever, they were about to kick a ball and start the game. 

 

I hear people woo and scream. We're playing the Denver county high school, and it's apparently a huge deal. 

 

A quarter of the game had already ended, I was bored and resting my head on Craig's shoulder. We were in a large crowd and my head’s heavy. Even if someone does notice, it's not that big of a deal. 

 

We have the ball, it's handed to Clyde, I'm not too sure why I'm watching this intently. He runs into the end zone and Clyde gets tackled, yet we still score the six points or whatever.

 

Most of the people in the stands jump up. The three of us stay seated, not too ready to move yet. That's until we hear people clamoring that Clyde isn't getting up. 

 

Craig stands up to inspect the damage, “They're getting a stretcher, let's get out of here.” Thomas complies and we shuffle out of the bleachers. 

 

It's so much more difficult to walk around drunk than sober.

 

“Craig… I'm drunk…” I sputter out while Thomas giggles at me. 

 

“Perhaps you shouldn't have drank so much.” 

I bite my cheek accidentally and I can taste blood in my mouth. 

 

“Fuck, yeah, I'm fine Tweek, and I had like four beers too.” Thomas hiccups, I hope that the cops don't stumble upon us, I look fucked up. 

 

* * *

 

Bradley was kind enough to grab me an ice pack for my head. 

 

“So is Clyde okay?” Kevin said as he rolls his two decahedral die.

 

“Not sure, he got carried away on a stretcher.” Craig explains, I know we're playing Dungeon and Dragons, but my head's pounding. 

 

“So, do you think a job is going to open up at Harbucks? My mom is now bugging me about a job since Henri is gone.” Bradley shrugs his shoulders as he leans back in his fold up chair. 

 

“Dude,” Kevin sighs. 

 

I smile at this, “I mean probably,”

 

We continue to play through the story Kevin created, I'm sluggish and hungover. 

 

We play through enough turns and we wind up thwarting a coup designed to kill the non playable king. 

 

“Well since I called out today, I really have to go to work tomorrow.” I say while standing up, my back kinda hurts and I feel exhausted despite not doing anything. 

 

Craig also adds, “Yeah, I have church in the morning.” He mimes a gun to his head. 

 

“Well I can drive you guys home. You guys don't mind just staying here right?” Kevin and Thomas nod as they carefully clean up the D & D covers and die. 

 

It doesn't take long to grab our things and head to Bradley's van.

 

“Hey, just stop at Tweek’s house.” Craig tells Bradley, my breath hitches, Jesus. I wasn't expecting him to hang out after this. I want sleep. 

 

“Oh why?” Bradley has the nerve to ask, just do what Craig says, don't cock block, man. 

 

“It's hard to explain, I just don't want to go to my house, don't be a dick about it.” I just frown at Bradley and he takes this as acceptable behavior.

 

I play mute in the passenger side as we bump along the icy roads. I'm impressed and proud that Bradley doesn't lose control of the vehicle. 

 

He drops us off with a smile and a wave. Craig flips him off, and he laughs in response before driving off.

 

“Let's get inside, I'm cold and my fucking head hurts.” I tell Craig, he makes an oh shape with his mouth, but doesn't say anything. I wonder if I what I said scared him.

 

Stepping onto the stairs, Craig interrupts me, “Don’t you want like soup or coffee or something?” 

 

“No.” I run upstairs, shedding my jacket and top t-shirt, I still have two layers on, my armpits are sweaty. I don’t have time to shower. Craig follows me up.

 

“You okay?” I turn around, Craig’s hanging onto the doorframe, maroon knuckles, just like his runny red nose.

 

“Fine, just overheated.” Stating, I flop on my bed, it’s comforting to lay down and not do anything. I’m still annoyed that I wasted a day off on a stupid football game that ended with my friend getting hurt.

 

Craig’s on the bed now as well, I feel his weight and can hear him breathing, sniffling. 

 

“Hey,” He says to me, I guess to warn me that his hands are grabbing my arms and he’s furiously kissing my lips.

 

I don’t fight it, I kiss back and wiggle on my bed.

 

“Craig.” 

 

“What?” He gives me a glance of fear in his eyes. He’s worried I think, he doesn’t say anything that would even hint to that.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

He lets go of me, my room spins. “I gotta go, I think my mom might actually give a fuck about where I am right now, have to get up early for church.”

 

I cough, not violently, just swallowed saliva down the wrong tube, “Why do they make you go?”

 

“They don’t make me go, it’s just if I do, they leave me alone about shit. Especially now that I’m supposed to be applying for college.” He stands up from my bed. “Well I’ll see you later, Tweek.”

 

He leaves and my vision is a bit blurry, as I drift into sleep.

 

* * *

 

“Mother fucker!” I accidentally shout out while I drop a coffee. Sherri is quick to hand me a mop, she gives me a sympathetic look with her brown eyes. 

 

Officer Barbrady, I mean Mr. Barbrady, let us know that we're looking for more workers since Clyde is still in the hospital. He broke his left ankle. Barbrady had put a ‘help wanted’ sign in the front window, I worry about who will get hired. 

 

Sherri picked up the order I dropped, the young customer didn't seem to mind. 

 

More people poured in due to it being lunchtime. I notice Craig in the group of college aged girls who are in front of him. Mostly because he's larger than them. Sharp features, dark eyes, oh shit I want to fuck him. 

 

“I'll have a medium latte, thanks.” One of the women tells me snapping me out of my daydream. Shit, now I have a work boner. Sherri and I quickly delve out drinks to the customers as fast as possible. 

 

“Tweek, you want to see Clyde after work? He's recovering and if you're there it'll be bearable.” Craig leaned on the counter, everyone else sat down and he was the only person in line. 

 

“Can't, Kyle and Wendy need to talk about the campaign, I think I need to say something when they're giving their speeches.” I let out a sound of disgust.

 

“That's a bummer, you guys already looking for a replacement?” Craig smirks, oh no, that'd be a bad idea. I can't have the dude who I probably have a crush on start working here. It'd be...distracting from work. Yeah, that's it. 

 

Sherri pipes up, “You want an application?” She was eavesdropping, wow. 

 

“...I guess.” Craig’s face softens. Oh. I don't think Craig actually intended to apply. 

 

Sherri sneaks off to the back to fetch the right papers to fill out. 

 

“Are you serious dude?” I find myself sneering at Craig, what is he doing!

 

“What? If I get a job, it'll impress my parents.” He pouts and Sherri hustles her way back to the front. 

 

“Here you go, it might take awhile to fill out.” Sherri informs as she hands the packet of papers over into Craig's hands. 

 

“It's cool if I come back tomorrow with it, right?” Craig ignores me. 

 

“Yeah, just ask for Barbrady and he’ll take care of it.” Sherri smiles and I boil about it. I'm not sure why I'm so displeased. 

 

“Cool, see you later, Tweek.” Craig folds his application up into his black winter jacket and takes off. 

 

I wipe down the counter. 

 

* * *

 

Arriving at the Broflovski household made my stomach drop. I didn't want to be in politics. 

 

I place my bicycle near the front door and knock with my gloved hand. 

 

After a few moments, Kyle's mother answers the door. “You must be Tweek! Come on in, you must be freezing.” She ushers me inside. 

 

“Are you hungry?” She asks before yelling, “Kyle! Tweek is here!” Before Kyle and Wendy can come down, she admits. “I'm glad you're here, I hope my boy isn't trying to be like John F. Kennedy.” 

 

“I'm fine, I eat the pastries at work.” I want to ask if that makes Wendy, Jackie Kennedy or Marilyn Monroe, but Kyle reveals himself from the staircase. 

 

“We're in my room, you can come up.”

 

“Okay,” I wave to his mother and she returns a warm grin. 

 

I follow Kyle into his strictly neat bedroom, every object seems to be in the right place. He has a large bookshelf that reaches the ceiling, no dust on it either.

 

Wendy clears her throat from Kyle’s made bed, “Hey Tweek, we were just talking about how it’s a three party race.” 

 

“Who else is running?” She gets me away from inspecting what Kyle likes to read.

 

Kyle takes the liberty to sit in his computer chair that spins, “Well, it’s Cartman, Stan, and Butters, I think. Then it’s Timmy and Jimmy, I have no idea who they could pick to be their treasurer.”

 

“We’ve already planned our speeches, if you don’t want to say anything, you can just stand there.” Wendy explains with the papers she’s typed up in her lap.

 

“That sounds fine,” I feel entirely out of place.

 

“We’ve discussed about which demographics we think we can get, I only wanted to be in the student council for college application reasons, but knowing that fucking Cartman is trying to win? I can’t let that asshole have another ego trip.” Kyle rants, I nod and smile. 

 

Wendy brushes her long brunette hair out of her face, “So are you like in any extracurricular activities? That would help pull some extra votes. It’s not too late to join or make a club. The election is in December, we have three months.”

 

“Oh, not really, I mean, I think I can talk to Kevin, he runs the Chess Club or something?” I think he still does that, anyway. I don’t know really like Chess, but Kyle and Wendy are depending me. I can’t fuck up their chances for college.

 

“That sounds good, try and get into as many clubs as you can.” Kyle rests back in his faux leather chair.

 

The meeting continues like this for another hour, it's getting kind of late. I'm holding my phone when my phone vibrates. 

 

“Jesus,” I mumble, Kyle looks over confused, but goes back to editing his speech. 

 

_ (From Thomas) Dude, this is bad, I kissed Kevin yesterday when I was drunk. Help! He told me not to tell anyone, but you know I don't listen.  _

 

Oh shit, “I have to go, emergency.”

 

“Is everything okay?” Wendy genuinely looks concerned for me. 

 

“Yeah, I'll see you guys at school.” I say while escaping.


	9. Slow Hands

I really should learn how to drive, yet I know that I wouldn't be that good at it. I'm way too nervous, I'd jump and swerve the car into a ditch killing myself. I notice that Kevin doesn't really talk that much anymore. He wasn't chatty, but now it's like he's mute.

 

Glancing over at Thomas, he seems to be down as well. He's told me in great detail how he regrets pushing himself onto Kevin. 

 

They don't talk as of now. 

 

Bradley coughs into his arm as we wait to pull into our school. Staring out the window, I notice, I am searching for Craig. He's helping Clyde out of Token’s Escalade. Craig told me that Cadillacs are overrated, he was talking about Token. I didn't know what that meant and still don't. Overrated? It’s fancy, so yeah of course people flock to buy it. 

 

I bump out of my seat, going over a snow pile. It scares me, being jostled like that. I should pay more attention. Winter is here, even though it never really leaves South Park. It's only October and I know I need to wrap seven blankets around me, at preferably all times. 

 

We park, and Bradley and Kevin just open the car doors letting in the cold air. I’m freezing my nipples off and I can't even run inside or I'll fall on the ice. 

 

Everyone travels slowly through the snow and sleet, I must get through the day before I die of hypothermia. 

 

I'm grateful once I push my way into school. It's warm and I get to be near Craig while supposedly learning. 

 

Shivering at my locker, I shove my bag in, not even bothering to fix my books up, I just want to rush into homeroom and lay my head down on my desk for thirty minutes. 

 

Craig intercepts me before I can get there, “You alright?”, he mutters to me in a gruff voice. I lied when I told myself that I wanted to be near Craig, I don’t really want to be near anyone right now. 

 

“Yeah, tired.” I’m telling half truths, we both head to our desks, I see Kevin in my peripheral vision. I need to ask him something. The desk is cold against my forehead, I close my eyes.

 

A large hand grabs my shoulder, “Tweek,”

 

I yelp, people look over at me, they’re staring, Jesus. It’s Craig’s hand, Kevin peers at me from his book, it’s an AP English book. One I haven’t bought yet. It’s  _ Catch Twenty Two _ .

 

“I’m fine, Craig.” He notices everyone has their eyes on us and turns back to his notebook. He's most likely doodling or some shit. 

 

“Hey Kevin,” I try and whisper, it doesn't really work, I just sound like I'm speaking at a normal volume. I never got the hold of how to whisper. Why do people feel the need to keep their voices down? What are they hiding?

 

“Yeah?” He somberly responds, he sounds really upset. I know he feels weird about Thomas kissing him and everything, however I didn't think that he would be this affected. Sure, when Craig made out with me, it confused me, nonetheless I got over it and now everytime I masturbate I only can think of Craig fucking Tucker. 

 

“Oh, uh,” Don't get distracted Tweek, the race! “Did the chess club start yet?”

 

“It did last week, but we let anyone join whenever, we need as many people as we can get. I thought you didn't like Chess, what changed your mind?” Kevin places his book down, I can tell that this is brightening his mood so I feel a bit accomplished.

 

“Oh, I was thinking of making a board game club. My mom wanted me to join something. Why don't we like merge groups or whatever? Would that be difficult?” Yes, use my mother as an excuse, it'll work.

 

“Yeah come to the next meeting, it's this Thursday, don't forget.” Kevin returns to his book, I can tell that Craig was eavesdropping by the note he left on my desk. 

 

It's written in a font I can't really read, but I squint.

 

_ What are you talking to him about? Oo, chess? I'll be your king, if you'll be my queen.  _

 

I only write back, 

 

_ You're gay.  _

 

The bell rings, and Craig flips me off after reading what I wrote as we depart for the rest of the day. 

 

* * *

 

 

After our art teacher explained how we had to partner up and sketch a body for proportion sake, it made me glad that I had Thomas here. 

 

We had to take a picture for reference, it was a bit odd staring at a still of Thomas awkwardly posing and smiling. 

 

“Ah fuck! What am I supposed to do?” Thomas said next to me as he furiously erased one of my arms. 

 

“Kevin or the drawing?” I know what he means. 

 

“You know what, he didn't text me back, I'm actually, shit! Worried.” I stop my half ass sketching for now. I feel like Thomas is more important and I’m always on board to procrastinate schoolwork.

 

“Jesus Tweek, why is your hair so hard to draw?” Thomas places his pencil down and rubs his forehead.

 

Brushing off the comment about my messy hair, I tap my fingers on my desk, “We have a few days to work, don’t worry about it.” I find it very ironic that I am telling someone to not worry. 

 

Thomas sighs at me and continues to draw. I guess I should get to work, I still have half the class to kill time. I try and sketch enough that I can fix it later.

 

Thomas still seems frazzled as we left the classroom, I have to just move on, I have to study for a psych test or something. Jesus Christ, I'm so fucked up academically. 

 

I rush to my desk, Craig is already slouching in our psychology class. I bet that asshole thinks he’s so cool.  

 

“Do we have a test today?” I ask out of breath, I shouldn't have ran all the way here from my art class.  

 

“It's tomorrow dude, you okay?” He whispers to me, I guess to be secretive. I’m oddly jealous and turned on by his lowered voice.

 

“Yeah, ugh I have to do something for Wendy today.” I plop down in my desk, we're most likely going to review for the test so I can chill out for a moment. 

 

“How'd she rope you in?” He raises his eyebrows, I guess Wendy and I are far enough away on the cool spectrum to raise suspicion out of Craig Tucker.

 

“She asked me for a favor, I only have to run for treasurer.” Running my fingers through my hair, I feel how frizzy it is, I must look like a maniac.

 

“That sounds like a big favor.” Craig smirks at me, and wow that's such a banal statement. It's comforting though, coming from Craig. “You wanna come with me to Harbucks to hand in my application?” He proposes as the rest of the class shuffles in before time’s up.

 

“I don’t really like to go into work when I'm supposed to have off.” Avoiding my coworkers is paramount during the week. I'm supposed to be studying chapter five of this psychology textbook. 

 

Our teacher wanders in a bit late nonchalantly, I can tell that we're not doing much, just reviewing. I pay attention mostly and take notes. Class actually passes by quickly, thankfully.

 

The class ended, I follow Craig back to our lockers. My locker is still a mess, I struggle to rip out my brown paper bag. It almost forces me to be late, I have to run to the lunch room. 

 

I’m not the last person at the table, Craig and Clyde are missing. 

 

“Hey, Tweek, I heard Harbucks is looking to hire.” Bradley includes me on the conversation. I feel flattered, yet immediately put off by this. Craig wants to replace Clyde at work and I want that extremely bad. Bradley’s cool, but I don’t want him working with me when I can have Craig to stare at, maybe touch his dick in the storage room.

 

“That sounds like a great idea,” Thomas states. I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not.

 

Clyde and Craig arrive soon after, Clyde is hobbling on crutches. “Already trying to take my job, Biggle?” He laughs, but it feels hollow, I don’t know I try smiling at Clyde, but seeing him have trouble just trying to sit down makes me feel terribly guilty. It wasn’t my fault that Clyde got hurt, I have to remind myself.

 

“Shit, shouldn’t you be at home, dude?” Thomas wipes his mouth.

 

“The doctors said it was cool, so here I am. I don’t really want to fall behind in any of my classes.” Clyde feigns a smile. It’s a lot weaker than when he grins from ear to ear. 

 

“Hey Tweek, Henri is coming back in a few days, she wanted me to tell you.” Clyde oohs at this as Bradley should have probably told me in private. 

 

I nod and continue to eat, I notice how Kevin hasn't said anything and just has his nose in a book. 

 

The good news of this video health project is that our friend group was able to choose each other. The bad news, we have to film a video of what to do in an emergency. 

“So I have an idea,” Bradley naturally leads us, he's the only one who owns a camera and knows what to do with it. “I'll be the narrator or whatever.”

 

“I can get hit by the car, there's our emergency.” Craig morbidly states. 

 

“Yeah, that's good. I'll probably just write a script and you guys can change stuff.” I feel bad that Bradley is willing to take on most of the work. 

 

We all agree that this works especially for a first day assignment, we have about a week and a half. 

 

We spend most of the time writing and scrapping ideas, I'm anxious about this project, even though we'll split the work five ways.

 

After health, Kevin walks with me to AP, we're taking our sweet time. 

 

“Can I tell you something?” Kevin startles me, I almost drop my books. 

 

“Yeah, dude. You can tell me whatever.” I try and sound pleasant and not afraid. 

 

“I don't know about Craig dude, he just rubs me the wrong way. He seems like a fag.” My stomach drops, I just brush it off and we go to class. 

 

Wendy waves to me, oh shit. Her hanging responsibility over my head really drowns me out. 

 

“Hey, I talked to Kevin about the chess club, I guess I can infiltrate it.”  I shrug my shoulders. 

 

“That's good, don't worry about it, I think I have everything under control.” Wendy assures me with a polite smile. I’m not sure what she means by that so I retreat to my desk. Thankfully the day is wrapping up smoothly. 

 

Bradley dropped off Kevin and Thomas respectively. I stayed with them to travel to Harbucks. I slightly regret my position as Bradley sits across from me filling out the application. 

 

“Barbrady said we were the only two people interested so far.” Craig notes. I kinda want to buy a coffee, but I know I would only drink half of it and throw it away. 

 

“It'll be cool if we all work here, you know?” Bradley hums as his pen dances across the page. 

 

I resent that sentiment, but Craig smiles at me anyway. 


	10. Red Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wendy Chapter.

Son of a bitch! I smash my left hand on the horn. People in South Park just don't know how to drive. Token texted me earlier about coming over, I have so much shit to do. Homework, tell Stan to leave me alone, maybe blow Token to get him off my back. 

 

Turning into the only giant mansion in South Park, the only building where everyone always has their eyes on who is visiting. Some kid I didn't even know asked me if I was dating Token now. I didn't know I was so important. 

 

I didn't know if I was dating Token either, he's entertaining me and a distraction from Stan. 

 

I check my phone after I pull into what feels like a mile long driveway. 

 

Three new messages from Stan. 

 

_ (From Stan) Hey, I miss you. Sorry.  _

 

_ (From Stan) Wendy, I know I fucked up, like really fucked up. I'm sorry. _

 

_ (From Stan) You know I love you, please call me. _

 

I refuse to acknowledge him right now, they best way to get over an addiction is to do it cold turkey.

 

After slamming the door of my dirty car, Token waves at me to hurry up through the giant living room window. 

 

Here we go again.

 

Laying nude in linen sheets after a tedious day brightens my mood, if only by slightly. I know Token’s elegant bedroom too well by now. Three signed bass guitars line the right wall, I never ask who signed them, I always forget to. Token triumphantly returns from discarding the condom he filled earlier. 

 

“You alright? You seem more upset than usual.” Inquiring while his limp dick is still in view, man Token’s so sultry, Stan would always act so weird around me and repeatedly apologize after sex, it didn’t matter if he did something wrong, he was doing it with me. That’s what mattered.

 

“Wendy?”  Stepping into the room, trying to find his underwear most likely.

 

“Oh yeah, I’m good, just a bit dazed.” Giggling in an attempt for him to not press any further, I know I’m not at full capacity.

 

He laughs along, “I didn’t know I was that good.” Flattering himself, of course, I’m not sure how you could quantify how well someone has sex. From an experimental point of view, perhaps? I should stop being a nerd and put some clothes on.

 

“Yeah, could you hand me my sweater?” Quickly tossing up my clothes on to his bed, he flashes a smile at me. “Thanks,” I say while trying to fix my hair before I threw my top back on. 

 

A phone dances and sings against the hardwood, I’m glad that it didn’t interrupt us earlier. 

 

“Shit, my mom's calling me.” Token dashes for his cell phone on his dresser. 

 

As I fully redress, Token responded with “yeses” and “of course, I didn't forgets.” over the phone. 

 

He hangs up, and I think I clean up well.

 

“Hey, I have to go to a dinner party with my mother, something about meeting her new boss' family.” Gruff, he speaks as he walks over to his large antique armoire. 

 

I'm guessing this is my cue to leave, “I'll see you later then?”

 

“Yeah babe, I'll call you.” Pausing in between selecting his suit, gives me a peck on the cheek. 

 

Getting lost in between the library and billiard room, Token’s mansion is a maze, I'm always super confused, even though the front door never changes. 

 

I eventually find my way back into the cold, the snow blows up into my face, it stings. I run to shelter desperately.

 

Deciding to just idle in my car, it takes a while for the heat to work. It's only five o'clock and I'm still bored, my ignored phone jingles in my purse. 

 

_ (From Stan) Please answer me. I'm so sorry, Wendy, please talk to me. I need you.  _

 

_ (From Bebe) Yo, what up! _

 

I tap the call button, only two rings before she picks up. “Hey Bebe, what are you doing?”

 

“I was just at Clyde’s, you wanna watch me paint my nails? It'll be really exciting, my old paint job is already chipping, I'm so pissed.” She breathes in on the other line. 

 

“I'll be right there, I'm at Token’s.”

 

I hear her gasp and ooh. “Good for you! I'll see you in a bit.” She hangs up. 

 

I put my car in reverse, it didn't take too long to drive all the way to Bebe’s, longer than I would have liked, they didn't plow the snowy streets. We live in South Park, come on. 

 

Bebe’s bright red car illuminates the snow. I half ass park on the street, I hope someone hits it, it would give me an excuse to get a new one. 

 

Bebe is standing in her doorway.

 

“It's fucking freezing!” She tells me. 

 

“Yeah it's October, you've lived here for what, a decade?”

 

“Don't be a buzzkill, Wendy, do you want me to paint your nails too? I got all my shit together.” Bebe nods as we walk up her stairs. 

 

I shed my jackets on her bed, Bebe’s collection of nail polish had accumulated over the years. She had every color on the spectrum, I'm sure of it. 

 

“Ugh, I still have physics homework to do. I'll do it after my nails dry, I guess.” Bebe grabs a handful of bottles and sat on the floor, I sat with her.

 

“I have some physics problems left too, fuck me.” I sigh. 

 

“It's cool, we'll struggle together. What colors do you want?” She picked up some a purple nail polish bottle and shook it. 

 

My phone screams from my bag on her bed. 

 

“Who's calling you?” I could whittle down the possibilities, standing up and checking. 

 

_ Missed call from Stan _

 

_ (From Stan) Please Wendy, where are you? I just want to talk to you.  _

 

I ignore the messages and sit back down. 

 

“Black and blue.” I mutter pointedly. 

 

“Oh, shit.” She picks complimenting tones. “Is it Stan?”

 

I sigh, “Yeah, it's Stan of course, he's being ridiculously apologetic. I don't want to take him back that easily.” I pause, “He really fucked up this time. He needs to know the consequences.”

 

Bebe nods as she motions for me to put out my hands. 

 

“Yeah, that makes sense, ah hold still.” She tells me as she puts on the base coat of paint.

 

“You know what, fuck boys!” Bebe decides, “Clyde is always moping about, I've tried so hard to make him feel better about his broken ankle. It's like no matter how hard I try, he's always going to be upset.” She twists the top of the black nail polish back on with an angry smirk. 

 

“You can't fix people.” It hits me, more so about my situation, Clyde just needs to lick his wounds and he’ll be back on his feet, metaphorically and literally. 

 

“How's Token? He keeps asking about you, he thinks I would tell him what you said to me. Please.” She chuckles. 

 

I ponder for a bit before answering, “He's alright, he's not Stan, but I wouldn't say that he's better.” I know I'm numbing myself with Token. It's the only way I can deal with most of the bullshit I have to put up with. 

 

“Oh yeah, you know Cartman is already trying to drag your name through the mud. It's just a stupid high school election, why does he care so goddamn much?” Bebe righteously asks. 

 

“I'm not sure, probably just trying to snag something away from me.” The grudge Cartman holds is ridiculous, he's probably pissed that I'm trying to have power within the school. The only election that does matter is the senior one. We get to decide prom, help budget the senior trip to California, put together events for graduation. It's a lot to do, and I can't let someone run that into the ground. I'm the incumbent, winning should be a breeze. 

 

“Well I'm voting for you,” Bebe smiles at me, I knew that, but it's a nice gesture.

 

I stop talking, allowing for Bebe to focus on her nail art.

 

As we let the paint dry, we turn on the television for background noise. Checking my phone again, it's pleasant, I don't get much time to hang out with Bebe like this. 

 

_ Missed call from Stan _

 

_ (From Stan) Wendy, please, I love you.  _

 

Ignore, “So what problems did you have left?” 

 

Bebe reaches for her textbook, “Only a couple more.”

 

We work on these problems for about a couple of hours while we gossip about the girls of South Park. 

 

Bebe lets me stay over, she pulls out her old sleeping bag. 

 

“Thanks for letting me sleep here.” I say as I slip under the covers.

 

“It's cool Wendy, you're like my best friend.” She climbs into her bed and I drift off on her dusty floor.

 

* * *

 

Thank fuck, it's the weekend, Bebe and I are standing in line so she can get the new pumpkin flavored coffee Harbucks is peddling. 

 

“I didn't know Tucker worked here now, wonder how he got that job?” She wriggles her eyebrows while shooting her eyes at Tweek juggling one of the large orders in front of us. 

 

I think I understand what she's trying to suggest. Tweek doesn't seem all that compatible with Craig, I'm not even sure if Craig cares about relationships, well romantic ones for that matter. 

 

Staring at the decorations for Halloween, cobwebs on the windows, orange napkins, all the black cups, it's quaint and distracting. 

 

We're already up to order, “Hey Craig, already ready to work to death? Clyde told me to tell you that he's flattered that you stole his job.” 

 

“Yeah, he's said that to me, what do you want?” Craig doesn't bullshit, I think that's what I like about him, because even though he can be a prick, it isn't for no reason. There's normally some logic behind him. 

 

“Medium pumpkin latte, and whatever my date’s having.” Bebe points to me and I chuckle, it amuses me when she says we’re on a date. 

 

“Uh. Medium Americano. Thanks.” I shuffle to the side, Bebe insisted in the car that she'd pay for me. She didn't have to. 

 

Craig hands the order to Tweek and they hustle behind the counter. 

 

The door opens and the bell above it rings.

 

“Wendy?” Familiar and deep, fuck, it’s Stan. South Park’s small, of course this would happen.

 

“What do you want?” Bebe does the talking for me, she did an accurate job. Tweek murmurs in the back. I try and look sympathetic towards him and mouthed “Sorry.” 

 

“I just want to talk to you, Wendy.” He gets closer, he hasn’t shaved in a while and his eyes are bloodshot. 

 

“Do we have to do it here?” It’s hard for me to speak, I’m trembling slightly, everyone’s looking, at this, this spectacle. 

 

“Bebe, Wendy, your drinks are ready.” Tweek slides them on the counter. I don’t even want to drink this scalding crap anymore. 

 

“You won’t answer me! So yeah, let’s do it right here, in front of everyone!” He’s shouting, he’s upset, fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

“Wendy, let’s go.” Bebe tugs on my sleeve. We start to push our way out.

 

Stan walks after us, “Don’t go, please, I’m sorry.” 

 

“Stan, it’s too late for that.” I find myself saying, I feel like I can’t breathe, he’s starting to cry, I don’t want to kick him when he’s down, but Stan never knows when he fucks up or when to stop. 

 

We run out, I can see Stan hang his head down through the glass, god damn it. I kick some snow, “Fuck!”

 

“Wendy, it’s okay, look at me.” Bebe grabs my arm with her free hand, “If you really want to let him go, he’s going to be hurt, but you can’t back down, it’s how it starts over.”

 

I sigh, I know, Bebe’s right. “What if I want it to start over?” My stomach hurts.

 

“I don’t know, Wendy. Just, don’t get hurt.”

 

Shit, my stomach really hurts, I find myself bending over and vomiting onto the street without dropping my cup, good job me.

 

“Jesus! Wendy, are you okay? Let’s go home, get you some medicine.” Complying, I get ushered back into Bebe’s car. I’m not sure what’s wrong, I shut my eyes as Bebe buckles my own seat belt for me like a she would do for a child. 

 


	11. The Church and the Dime

Jesus Christ! Wendy ran out and vomited, before anyone could even help or catch her she drove off with Bebe. 

 

“Fuck!” Crumbling on to the floor, Stan pathetically cries to himself, I think that I probably shouldn’t be seeing this play out. 

 

Opening up the counter, Craig helps Stan Marsh off of the floor as the whole store watches and whispers. 

 

“I'll be fine,” He shrugs off Craig with a huff, he didn't even purchase anything. Leaving a bit bruised, Bradley chuckles next to me. 

 

“Things keep getting crazier and crazier.” Wiping down one of the machines, Bradley had quickly picked up the routine of Harbucks. I'm proud of him. 

 

There’s been an itch among the three of us that needed to process what just happened in here. The buzz of rubbernecking made making the orders much more difficult. 

 

Once everything dies down, I begin to wipe my apron with my hands before being interrupted again. “Hey Tweek, could you help me with some storage? I don’t know where anything goes back there.” 

 

Since I'm the only one who knows where anything is, I have to show Craig and Bradley everything small intricacy that I know. 

 

As we seclude ourselves in the back, Barbrady’s in his office, so it’s just Craig and I.

 

“So what do you need from back here?” I glance around at the boxes of napkins and assorted coffee beans guessing.

 

He forcefully grabs my waist and wraps his lips around my neck. “Jesus! Dude, we’re at work, what the hell are you doing?” This forwardness that Craig exudes when he finally gets me alone is alarming to me, he might actually be attracted to me. Gross.

 

“Come on, who’s going to come back here?” Whispering into my ear, Barbrady wouldn’t be too terrible, just really awkward, Bradley on the other hand could let it out. 

 

“I don’t know, let’s just go back to work, dude, we only have like two hours left.” Slightly pushing against his torso, he doesn’t really move back from the force.

 

“Fine.” He pouts, “Later,” he promises.

 

“Sure.” He ruffles my hair, effectively ruining it and letting it stick up in odd places.

 

We go back to the battlefield and Bradley is pensively pressing a button, “I’m doing this right, right?” 

 

“What are you making?” I glance over at the older gentleman patiently waiting.

 

“Just a latte.” Worriedly, looking, he had done all the right steps.

 

“No, you’re good Bradley.” Another customer just walked in, dressed down in black, it’s Henrietta, thank fuck she’s okay.

 

“Hey Tweek,” she greets me with that surly voice of hers. 

 

Craig makes himself useful by going out and wiping down some of the tabletops. 

 

“Black coffee?” Asking her usual, she nods.

 

“Not having any coffee was probably the worst part of being in the hospital again, apparently if it’s too hot, I’ll try and burn myself with it. Isn’t that some shit?” She coughs into her dark long sleeved shirt, dress? Henrietta’s fashion always confused me. I bet she buys her clothes online.

 

“Yeah, I guess, they were just doing their job.” I accept her few dollars and her generous tip.

 

“I’ll make it,” I tell Bradley, I don’t trust him with my best customer, if Henrietta stops getting her coffee here, nobody will give me anything more than the coins they don’t want.

“Oh, uh okay.” Bradley sits down on the one stool we have in the back and takes out his phone. He’s probably texting Kevin, or something I presume.

 

Clearing her throat, Henrietta asks, “Tweek, who would do I need to talk to if I wanted to start a slam poetry night here?”

 

“Probably Barbrady? He’s in the back. I’ll get him.” Revealing that he was eavesdropping, Bradley jumps up to grab our boss.

 

“Yeah, Pete’s coming back to town soon, something about his mother being sick. My therapist also really wants me to.”

 

“Dr. Quinn?” I can’t help myself and blurt out my therapist’s name.

 

“No, the guy. Dr. Lyons, but I’ve seen their name on the building.” I nod to myself as I complete her drink.

 

Mr. Barbrady takes his sweet time coming out to the front, “I love that! What time were you thinking of having your little show, young lady?”

 

Henrietta winces a bit, I chuckle.

 

“Friday nights? We can start at seven? It shouldn’t take that long.” Henrietta attempts to smile.

 

Returning with a dirty rag in his hand, Craig stares at me specifically making me sweat, dude can you not?

 

“That sounds wonderful, I’ll get one of these kids to type up a flyer for you, when do you want the first one to be?” Cheerfully smiling at Henrietta, Barbrady starts wiping the sweat from his forehead.

 

“Next friday would be fine, I already have a few readers coming with me.” Henrietta explains, I’m happy that she’s trying something.

 

“That’s great,” Waddling back to his office, Henrietta just shrugs her shoulder and takes her coffee to go.

 

Waiting for the shop to quiet down, Craig nudges me, “Sounds gay.” 

 

“Yeah, you are too.” Bradley snickers with me.

 

“Tweek, check your phone, Kevin wants to make sure that tomorrow is good for filming.” Thanks for reminding about impending school work, Brad.

 

Digging for my phone as I let Craig deal with one of our regular customers, I notice the blinking light and two new messages brightly displayed on the screen.

 

_ (From Kevin) Sunday at 3, okay? I want to film before the sun goes down. _

 

_ (From Thomas) I hate Kevin so much, I think he’s flirting with me with suggestive winky faces, what do I do? _

 

Sighing, I make sure I’m texting the right people.

 

_ (To Kevin) Sounds good. _

 

_ (To Thomas) Send them back? Idk man, Craig made out with me at work. _

 

I regret immediately telling someone about what Craig and I do, but I needed to get it off my chest.

 

Before I put my phone back in my pocket, it vibrates again.

 

_ (From Thomas) You’re so fucking lucky dude. _

 

I scoff, getting sexually harassed at work by your cute friend is definitely not good luck.

 

_ (To Thomas) Whatever you say, dude. _

 

It amuses me to no end that we call each other ‘dudes’, we’re not in California.

 

* * *

 

As the day ends, Bradley, Craig, and I are closing up when Craig corners me at one of the booths.

 

“My mom told me to invite you over to dinner tonight, if you don’t want to come, that’s fine.” Craig already deflects, I think he doesn’t want me to come over, it’d be awfully awkward to sit with his family and eat their food.

 

Politeness has been always my downfall, “Yeah, of course, I’ll go.” I decide to let my mother know where I am, she gets worried and all when I disappear.

 

_ (To Mom) Craig invited me to dinner, I’ll see you later? _

 

My mother doesn’t respond quickly and I presume she’s busy or deeply offended that I’m not coming home. She can deal with it, I decide.

 

I walk my bike next to Craig aimlessly strolling back to his house.

 

“Don’t fuck up and spill that we’re gay.” So audacious, fuck you too Craig.

 

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

 

Sighing, “No, just don’t make a scene or suck my dick at the dinner table. You sure, you’re ready to sit with my family for a couple of hours? You can bail if you really want to.”

 

“It’ll be fine Craig, what’s to worry about?”

 

* * *

 

Politely trying to eat the tough steak in my mouth has become too much to handle. Jesus, Craig was right, this was a bad idea.

 

Ruby’s sitting across from Craig and I, she’s looking at us oddly, I think she’s trying to investigate or something.

 

His mother sits at the one end of the table, while his father sits at the head of the table, 

 

The giant speaks, “So Tweek, I don’t see you at church often…” Mr. Tucker trails off, while his younger sister overdramatically rolls her eyes.

 

“Oh, my mom really doesn’t like church that much.” I place blame on my mother, even though I’m not lying, she always complains that the pews are too stiff and hurt her back.

 

“If you ever wanted to go dear, you could always come with us, you just have to get up really early.” Craig’s mother cracks a smile at me, she’s trying to convert me into their cult, don’t freak out Tweek.

 

“Yeah, why don’t you come with us tomorrow,” Craig knocks his one knee into mine.

 

“Okay, sounds...interesting,” I try shoveling some mashed potatoes in my mouth, they taste processed and buttery.

 

“So, Craig tells me that he’s doing better, I just wanted to thank you Tweek,” so this is why I’m being fed, it’s a reward.

 

“You’re welcome,” I guess I’ll take the credit of Craig getting his shit together.

 

Dinner is mostly quiet, everyone is too busy trying to eat to make any small talk, this forced family dinner is exactly that, forced. I’m very glad that my father works himself to death so that it’s mostly me fending for myself or just my mother and I eating.

 

Craig takes my plate away from me, I guess he thinks I can’t wash my own dish. I slowly start to realize that I'm trapped in the Tucker household and I can't do anything about it. They'll probably murder me. 

 

* * *

 

Rolling out his sleeping bag for me, Craig coerced me into staying over and somehow going to church before work, as well as film our video for health class. He better suck my dick for asking this much. 

 

“My mom is probably confused that I'm having a sleepover.” I shrug my shoulders as I sat on Craig's bed. 

 

“Think we're too old for this?” He flattens out the makeshift blankets on the floor, I have a feeling I won't be sleeping on the floor though.

 

I pause, “Nah. We're studying, right?” We smile at each other as he climbs up next to me, his long limbs perturb me as they wrap around me.

 

“You have to be quiet.” Whispering as he nips at my neck, my blood drains from my face as his hands snake under my shirt, nails scraping my torso. 

 

Craig hinted that he wanted to start doing more when we would be alone. Smothering me with his saliva in my mouth while he crushes my boner with his weight. 

 

We lost our shirts in a fit of lust, our lackluster bodies smack and sweat, I wholeheartedly think that Craig Tucker is trying to fuck me after his parents invited me to go to church with him.

 

Between muffles and moans “Craig, fuck me,” slips out.

 

“What?” He stops kissing, however doesn’t pull away his smoker’s breath on my left cheek.  

 

I realize my misstep, “Oh uh,” He runs his hand over my crotch.

 

“I don’t have any lube.” He frowns, “Shit, dude.”

 

“What?” Don’t worry, Tweek, he’s already stuck his tongue down your throat for him too many times to run away and out you. He’s red handed as well. 

 

“Do you want me to jerk you off?” Craig Tucker asks in the most dry and unsexy way possible and I still nod profusely. 

 

He unzips my pants and barely pulls them down before grabbing at me.

 

I wriggle under him and I stare as he concentrates on making me burst. His hands were rough against my tender skin. After fifteen minutes and our faces redden with excitement and shame. 

 

I reach and touch myself to finish, while Craig finally whips out his dick. Inspecting the size, Craig multitasks with his penis in hand and his mouth, making quick work assaulting my lips. 

 

My eyes shudder and I orgasm, Craig makes a sound of satisfaction and cums on my chest as well. I feel slightly rude. 

 

“I'll grab some tissues, stay still.” He instructs and I stay put. 

 

Cleaning the mess of me, “You okay Tweek? You look out of it.”

 

Yeah, you just masturbated over me. “I'm good, a little shocked.”

 

“About?” He inquires while he throws away the evidence in his small overflowing trash can. 

 

“Just what we did, you know?” Craig only shrugs, what a strange boy. 

* * *

 

 

I had to borrow a dress shirt from Craig to go to church, it was way too fucking early. I share a similar scowl with the Tucker children. 

 

We arrive a bit early and I notice mostly the South Park families. The Stotch’s, the Donovan’s, the Marsh’s. All dressed up, all looking sad. 

 

The stain glass windows mix with sunlight cascading the depictions of Jesus into a mystical rainbow. 

 

Church organs blare as Father Maxi walks down the aisle, the congregation all stand, I try and pay attention to what Mrs. Tucker is doing and try to follow. I feel very out of place. 

 

Once Father Maxi reaches the pulpit, he echoes, “You may sit.” Awkward murmurs fill the silence before he begins. The choir leads everyone in a hymn that I don’t recognize so I lip synch my way through it.

 

I sit when they sit, kneel when they kneel, stand when they stand.

 

Father Maxi begins his speech, “Good morning everyone, I’m glad to see some new faces in our congregation. While flipping through the bible last night, thinking about what to say. I realized after some prayers,” He pauses dramatically, I’m practically on the edge of my seat. I look to Craig and he has his eyes shut.

 

“As a church we always need to find a way to gather more people into God’s heart. I was reading the Second Epistle to Timothy, chapter three, verse sixteen and seventeen.  _ “ _ _ All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be competent, equipped for every good work.”  _

 

Some of the other churchgoers nod in agreement to this. 

 

“So as a congregation, I see it fit to try and reach out to nonbelievers, save their eternal soul from damnation, this is very serious, Amen.” 

 

I glance at Mama and Papa Tucker and now feel betrayed? I don’t know, they only brought me here to be converted, which I guess was the whole point in the first place. Why else do other people bring outsiders to the mass of all places?

 

A collection plate of money is passed around, I ignore the small amount of cash and politely pass it down the pew. Next is everyone lines up to receive a Jesus wafer, I pass and stay in my seat, a few elders shoot glares at me, but I’m pretty sure if you weren’t a believer you supposed to not eat Jesus, whatever. 

 

I check my phone, two messages.

 

_ (From Kevin) How’d you like chess club? I just remembered to ask you lol. _

 

_ (From Thomas) I got Kevin to open up to me a little bit? We should hang out soon, I have shit to tell you. _

 

I sigh and pocket my phone, this should be over soon.

 

* * *

 

The four of us all agreed to meet up on one of the dead end streets in South Park. Craig and I were still in our church clothes, I forgot to text back both Kevin and Thomas. I was just annoyed.

 

Handing me a small packet of papers, Bradley briskly stated, “Here’s your script.”  I flip through the papers, trying to remember my lines.

 

“Okay, I’m gonna film this, Kevin, you can pretend to hit Craig with my car right?” Thomas is in a shotty doctor’s costume, I just hope we don’t fail this dumb assignment.

 

As Bradley is fiddling with the camera, Kevin acknowledges me as Craig begins to lay on the dirty street. 

 

“Looking spiffy, Did you get my text?” I realize that I’m still borrowing Craig’s clothes, I feel myself blush.

 

“Oh yeah, it was okay, I just did it for Wendy’s campaign.” Shrugging, I admit the truth.

 

“Oh cool.” He seems disappointed and glances at Thomas standing off to the side religiously reading his parts.  

 

Filming doesn’t take too long, we only have to refilm a few of Thomas’ lines due to him accidently screaming ‘shit!’ Apparently I played the part of shell-shocked loved one well.

 

“Okay, that’s a wrap.” Bradley goofily claps as the sun begins to set. 

 

Sticking out his hands, I help Craig rise to his feet and begin brushing some of the gravel off of his suit.

“We better get an A for this shit.” We all laugh as Thomas agrees to edit the film together later in the week.

 

I wonder if Bradley would ever become a taxi driver as he drops me off at my home.

 

_ (From Craig) Just give me back the suit tomorrow at school, it’s no big deal. _

 

My mother catches me in the living room, “Hey sweetie, where’ve you been?”  Sitting on the couch she’s knitting herself a scarf for the harsh winter, I don’t blame her. 

 

“Just with the gang, we had to film something for health.” I nod, even though she’s concentrating on her art.

 

“Is that why you’re dressed up so nice?” She pauses to look at me, she’s smiling, I know she’s just asking questions, nonetheless she’s suspicious of me and I know it. She’s my mother. 

 

“Yeah.” I lie. “I’m gonna shower, okay mom?”

 

She hums at me, as I retreat to my bedroom, guiltiness washes over me as I breathe in the scent of Craig’s suit, it smells of detergent and his sweat.


	12. Never Forgive Never Forget

The bell rang and my ass sunk against the cold desks, I end up back in school. Too tired to function, I can't protest when Wendy takes me away from Craig. Craig and I were going to play hangman. Another day I suppose.

 

“We're recording our speeches today on the morning announcements.” She tells me frantically like she just found out, oh shit. 

 

She did just find out, rummaging through her bag, she hands me a crumpled note card to read off of.

 

Kyle Broflovski runs over to us, “You guys ready? Cartman, Stan, and Butters already got dibs on going first.”

 

Wendy groans, we check in with Principal Victoria, who smiles at us. 

 

Cartman begins speaking once one of the younger film student yells “Were on air everybody! Quiet on the set!”

 

“Students and educators of Park High, I, Eric Theodore Cartman has decided to run to be the senior president that this school needs.” He coughs and continues, “I will be greatly appreciative when I receive the position. That leads me to my running mates, Stan Marsh and Butters Stotch.” Wendy rolls her eyes, man I don't want to be on camera twice in two days, that's too much man.

 

“It's Leopold, but everyone calls me Butters.” Butters smiles, somehow making this more awkward, Stan sheepishly smirks, but doesn't say anything. “Don't forget to vote for Cartman/Marsh, you don't need a whore running our school, you need me!”

 

“That's a wrap, Wendy, you guys are up next.” Bawling her fists, Wendy turns to me, “At least we all have something to say.

 

Kyle and I nod as we step into the camera's focus.

 

“Good morning, Park High, as the incumbent party, I would like to acknowledge that I am the candidate with the most experience. I ran the volleyball team's food drive which helped feed dozens of lower income Park families. Last year, I pushed for more variety and healthier foods in our cafeteria. Please vote for the candidate that cares about the student body. Thank you. Here is my vice president, Kyle Broflovski.”

 

Wendy and Kyle switch places and that means I have to talk next. Fuck, don't twitch Tweek, stay calm. 

 

“Similarly, I've been the president of the debate team, team captain of our school’s tennis team, as well as the founder of the Jewish culture club.” I can hear Cartman audibly sigh in the next room. “Please vote the seniors with the most experience. Finally, we have our treasurer, Tweek Tweak.” Kyle gestures at me, oh fuck me. 

 

They signal that I'm on air and everything that I tried to remember from the notes flew out of my head. 

 

“I'm Tweek Tweak and I'm running for treasurer.” Awkward silence, come on say something else! “I'm good with money.” My face is red, abort mission. I nod and confuse most of the room. 

 

“I'm sorry Wendy,” She looks sympathetic. 

 

“Don't worry about it, I doubt anyone will even be paying attention” That's awfully comforting, I doubt her though. 

 

The third and final group of candidates rolls in, Jimmy Valmer, Timmy Burch, and Scott Malkinson. Jesus, maybe only goody two shoes, totalitarians, and freaks run for student council. No wonder there's no North Park kids.

 

I leave the small studio before Jimmy begins to stutter through his speech. It's only because I'm about to panic, I didn't want to be rude. No one really cares anyway. 

 

Sketching for another bullshit art project, Thomas was finally going to give me the lowdown on what's going on with him and Kevin. 

 

“Dude, he's really weird, fuck!” Furiously erasing the paper, I wasn't sure if he was just having a tic, or abusing his disability. That was shitty.

 

“What's weird about him that I don't know about?” We're just doing a still life piece, this vase of flowers is boring as shit.

 

“Well, I'm not supposed to tell anyone.” Really Thomas?

 

“Craig gave me a handjob, come on, your turn.” I'm being a dick, but I embarrassed myself on broadcast for the whole student body to watch. 

 

“Fine, shit! You're an ass. He kissed me, it wasn't even that good, but damn it.” He trails, “He told me that he felt confused, what the hell does that mean?”

 

“He's confused?”

 

Thomas scowls at me, “Tit! Obviously. Geez I'm jealous at how much progress you're making with Craig.”

 

Progress? I highly doubt that, I have no idea what Craig's deal is. 

 

“Ah shit! I have to edit our health video tonight.” Thomas complains and rests his head on his desk. 

 

“Yeah…” Let's get this over with, I'm agitated already and it's not even noon yet. 

 

* * *

 

Taking my sweet time to psych, I got to be affronted by all the whispers about Stan and Wendy. Who cares? Apparently everyone. The best so far is that Stan came in to Harbucks to attack Wendy and in response she vomited outside. It’s close, but not that apt.

 

Some girl I don’t recognize from class is badgering Craig while he continually has his middle finger raised. She’s sitting in my seat, I’m already angry at this stranger.

 

High pitched voice, shit I cringe at her as she demands “What do you know about Wendy Testaburger? You’re running with her, are the rumors true?”

 

My eyes widen, “Yeah, she’s secretly a lizard person from space sent to reign terror from above.” This displeases the girl and she returns to her gaggle of friends trying to eavesdrop. I feel bad, that was really mean of me.

 

“I didn’t know you could be a dick.” Craig laughs at me.

 

“Why was she bothering you?” I ask, I’m a bit perplexed at why some random girl would think that Craig has any information. 

 

“Apparently, I’m dating Wendy and Stan at the same time. I had to punch Fosse in the face, he genuinely thought that Stan Marsh cheated on Wendy with me. Get real,” he sneers and then lowers his voice. “He’s not my type.”

 

I am, congratulations to me, I guess. 

 

Our teacher arrives, “Settle down everyone,”

 

During the lesson, I mostly worry that people are spreading rumors about Wendy and therefore, me by association. I want to vomit. 

 

No one could possibly figure out that I’m gay, right? I tried very hard to cleanse my name of being the twitchy freak during the transition from middle to high school. Failing obviously, but everyone slandering Wendy is probably terrible for me. I lay my head down until we can leave.

 

* * *

 

My sandwich is lukewarm and not that delicious. 

 

“You guys, I'm telling you we need to go to this haunted prison!” Spewing food from his mouth, an injured Clyde badgers us. Fuck no, ghosts are terrifying. I don't know who he's trying to get to come. 

 

Before anyone can answer, a girl in a frilly lilac shirt hops over to our table. I don't recognize her. 

 

“Hey, you guys know Wendy right?”

 

“Nope.” I say, everyone at the table looks confused, Bradley and Craig catch on leading them to both laugh. 

 

“Oh. But… nevermind.” She slinks away as a group of girls reveal themselves by shooting daggers at our table when their messenger walks away. 

 

“That’s like the fourth person who’s tried asking me about Wendy. I guess no one gives a shit that I can’t play football for another three weeks.” Clyde shakes his head. I agree that this is getting quite annoying and feel a tinge of pity for Clyde.

 

Kevin scowls, “Well what did happen to her? I’ve heard like twenty different stories.”

 

“Stan followed her into Harbucks begging her, probably to take him back again for the thousandth time.” Toneless Craig did a fantastic job of explaining what actually did happen.

 

We murmur about Wendy endlessly, her love life really shouldn’t be my business.

 

“So what about that haunted prison?” Bradley shockingly is over the gossip as well, this is a worst alternative, but at least I won’t have to feel culpable. 

 

October is probably the worst month of the year, the cold becomes unbearable, horror films are pumped out, and people demand to take me to haunted places. It’s so overrated.

 

“It’s gonna start next week, ten bucks a person.” He smiles, it costs money? Hell no, I wouldn’t even dare to go even if they paid me to.

 

“We should go to health,” I nudge Craig’s shoulder and we escape together.

 

Once we’re alone, I feel brave enough to speak, “Can’t this day end any sooner?” 

 

He chuckles and remains silent through our sauntering in the halls. 

 

Killing time pays off as we’re the first two to sit down in our health class, I love being early, ergo, I hate being late. Punctuality is probably the most important trait to me, god I’m such a weirdo.

 

“Finally! We have our CPR dummies!” Mrs. Rhodes exclaims, her life must be exhilarating, I laugh to myself and earn a mildly concerned glance from Craig.

 

The rest of the class eventually pours in, let’s get this over with.

 

“Alright class, partner up!” Thank fuck, I have friends in here, Craig and I default into each other, Thomas and Kevin team up, leaving Bradley pissed off. I’m happy for Thomas, maybe he’s finally getting what he so desperately wants.

 

‘Fuck you guys,” Bradley gets regulated to some North Park loner, we all laugh at him because we’re assholes.

 

“Okay now, each pair will get a dummy from the back.” Explaining diligently, Mrs. Rhodes brushes her frizzy back.

 

“I’ll get it.” Craig dictates, leaving me to twiddle my thumbs. Everyone else went back together, the plastic must be heavy as shit, Craig doesn’t have any problems, but I just feel useless.

 

“Now assign who’s going to do the mouth to mouth, and who’s going to restart the unconscious person’s heart.” Our teacher explains in a sweet tone, this is psychical labor and bullshit. 

 

“You can breathe right?” Craig asks and I roll my eyes while I sit on the floor near the head of the cut in half mannequin.

Mrs Rhodes clears her throat, “You may begin, we’ll do this for about five minutes and then you’ll switch roles.” 

 

Exciting, I pinch the fake nose and try my hardest to blow air into artificial lungs. Craig is pushing with all his might, the sounds of about twelve different CPR dummies being smacked around, mostly annoys than rattles me.

 

The five minutes pass soon enough and we wait for antiseptic wipes to be passed around and we swab out the plastic mouths. 

 

“That was a workout, holy shit.” Craig rotates his shoulder cuffs and his bones crack.

 

We swap places and another five minutes start, I do not have the upper body strength to continually press on, my lungs are burning and my arms hurt.

 

Mrs. Rhodes makes her rounds and hangs out near Craig and I, “You can do it Tweek, try and pace yourself.”

 

I don’t die and we finish ‘saving’ people.

 

After health, my body became sluggish and I wanted to sleep. Kevin didn’t bother me as we walked to AP English, I’m pretty sure I’m doing poorly in this class, I still don’t particularly give a shit.

 

It’s another class that everyone has Wendy’s name on their lips, she’s sitting right there, what’s wrong with these people?

 

No one is actively bothering Wendy, so I approach her, “Uh, you okay, Wendy?” 

 

She jumps, I think I startled her, I hate when people do that to me I immediately regret my decision, “Oh, hey Tweek. Yeah I’m fine.”

 

I accept that answer and retreat to my seat with everyone staring me down.

 

The class is a lecture and I take some notes, the day ends in a very unexciting manner. 

 

Someone, Kevin, taps my shoulder as I’m trying to evacuate the building as fast as possible, “Hey, can you tell Brad, I’m gonna walk home?” 

 

“Oh, yeah, sure, man.” I don’t ask why, I should have, god damn it.

 

Once, I gather my books and travel through the parking lot to Bradley’s van, it’s only him and Craig standsthere.

 

“Where’s Kevin and Thomas?” Bradley pointedly wonders.

 

“Kevin told me that he was walking home.” I explain and my pants vibrate.

 

_ (From Thomas) Kevin and I are walking home together, make up an excuse for me, thanks. _

 

Ugh, fine, “Thomas has therapy and his mom picked up early.”

 

They both buy it and I get to ride shotgun for the first time. I’m so used to being crammed in the back next to Craig and Thomas.

 

“Do you guys want to hang out? I’m not busy, we can play some Smash Bros.” Bradley hums and taps on his steering wheel as we wait in traffic.

 

“Yeah, sure” Craig and I both chime.

 

Of course, the Biggle household is a war zone as soon as the three of us walk in.

 

“So what mother! I just relapsed! No I’m not trying to go back to school!” She huffs and pouts.

 

“Dear, I just want to help you!” Mrs. Biggle coos as we all stealthily try to climb the stairs without either his mother or sister noticing us.

 

As we collectively sit around Bradley’s nerdy room and he turns to Craig and I and asks, “So are you two, like together? I don’t care if you’re gay, I’m just curious.”

 

The color drains from my face, Craig just looks concerned. “Uh, no!” I try and attest and laugh it off.

 

“Nah man, let’s just play some Smash.” Craig sounds sure, but I know he’s as worried as me.

 

“Oh ok, sorry dudes.” Bradley snickers like he didn’t just put a gun to my head.


	13. My Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Chapter.

_ (From Tweek) I’m skipping therapy too, I already called her, sorry man. _

 

Tweek totally ditched all his responsibilities, fuck! School was extremely boring without him, I sat in art and had to actually pay attention about contrast. Whatever, Kevin actually is responding to me now, he’s still as awkward as ever.

 

Knocking on the bathroom door startles the shit out of me, “Hey honey, what do you want for dinner?” 

 

“Uh, I’m not sure.” My mother hasn’t cooked in years and we can’t go out to eat. Most of the times when I’m having an episode is when we’re in public. We’d probably settle for pizza, her new boyfriend decided to end it with her. He lived in Denver and thought the distance wasn’t worth it anymore. 

 

She says, “Oh, okay.” I make sure to go out, I really worry for her. After my dad left and divorced her, she’s never really bounced back. She drifts from new man to man and shit, it’s not making her happy.

 

After she lets me continue to inspect my face and brush at my discolored teeth. “Shit!” Another day of having extra things to do after being tortured since the morning. Messing with my own hair, I notice that the bags under my eyes are almost as dark as Tweek's.

 

I race down the stairs, we have about thirty minutes to get to the doctors and fuck. 

 

“Therapy is at four today, right?” My mother asks while crossing her arms in our outdated living room. 

 

“Yeah,” It's always at four, I feel like she only asks to make sure that I know when I'm supposed to update Dr. Quinn how my medicines slightly help me. At least they don't give me hallucinations or crazy acne. 

 

“You ready?” She shrugs in a somber manner.

 

“Ready as ever,” We both share weak smiles before we share a silent car ride to the therapist.

 

Squirming in the therapist's chair is probably not a good sign for her to begin the session with. 

 

“Thomas, how have you been?” Dr. Quinn says as she returns from getting my file from the other room. 

 

“Been better,” I feel a tic coming on, “Fuck!” I try playing it off, but I know that it's still off putting enough. 

 

“How's the new medication working?” She pushes her glasses closer to her face with her index finger. 

 

“I tic less, so good?” Nervously chuckling, I know she's going to ask about what I told her before about Kevin. 

 

“That's great, no other side effects?” She scribbles something down on my papers. 

 

“Nope, none that I'm aware of.” I shrug my shoulders, some of the cartilage cracks and pops. 

 

She scribbles something on her clipboard and she changes the subject. “Is school okay?” She knows; because I told her about the bullying I endured when I was younger. 

 

“Yeah, well…” Shit, Thomas, don't tell her about Kevin. “Kevin… ah! Cock!” I feel my face burn up. 

 

She only smiles, “Take your time,”

 

“Well he kissed me, shit, uh I guess I’m happy about that?” Scratching my hair just gets my dandruff under my fingernails, whatever. Dr. Quinn is shockingly cool about gay people, which heavily relieved me. The small rainbow flag in a frame should have been a major clue. I’m glad that Tweek pointed it out to me that she wouldn’t be shitty. Most people in South Park get all retarded when it comes to same sex relationships.

 

“You guess?” She smiles at my uncertainty, it’s contagious and I smile too. 

 

I rub at the back of my neck, “He doesn’t seem gay so I’m not too sure what to do about it.” I sigh, “Fuck, I really like him I think, but if he’s not cool with his sexuality, shit! I should back off?”

 

She crosses her leg under her desk and shifts in her chair, “I can’t really tell you what to do Thomas, what do you think would be the best option? What would calm you down?” 

 

“I’m not sure, like I want him to take me seriously, tit! Yet, I know he’s probably not comfortable sexually at all.” Dr. Quinn nods and scribbles something down. 

 

“Are you out to most people Thomas?” This question shocks me, because I haven’t even really realized that the only person who really knows that I’m gay is Tweek and Craig for the most part. Tweek let me know that Craig knew. I feel like I should maybe tell my mother, I think it would just stress her out more.

 

“...Not really.” She writes some more notes down.

 

“How was it?” My mother asks as she grips the steering wheel with her wrinkling hands.

 

“Fuck! It was fine.” Cracking my knuckles to pass the time, my mother stops at the local Applebee’s, I think I can not embarrass us while we eat.

 

My mother questions if this is ‘okay’ for dinner when she parks and shrugs her shoulders. I nod and give a small smile.

 

“Table for two, please.” My mother has always been too polite, my father could throw a ceramic plate at her in a fit of rage and she would still have apologized and cleaned it up. 

 

The hostess nods and grabs the two menus for us and leads us to a booth. I bounce into the seat and feel like I’m sinking into the ground.

 

As my mother flips through the menu, she eyes me up. “So what will you be having?” She smirks because I normally let her eat my leftovers. Fuck, for some reason the idea of eating something again grosses me out. 

 

“Probably chicken,” We don’t talk much, we’re both fairly quiet people, well when I’m not having a tic.

 

The service is quick and we kinda eat fast, I actually eat enough that it’s acceptable for me to not take it back with me.

 

My mother pays on her card and we leave without me embarrassing her. I feel proud for some odd reason to be able to eat out with her.

 

* * *

 

There's this heavy weight in my chest when I think about Kevin. I wait on his every reply and even sometimes agonize when the hours pass and I get brushed aside. 

 

_ (To Kevin) Do you want to hang out? _

 

I keep trying to get him alone to talk to him. Why did he kiss me? Fuck it's already been two minutes. This is so stupid why do I put so much of my effort into a guy that's not even into me? I'm so stupid. 

 

I rush my fingertips over my phone. Debating sending another message to him before my phone vibrates in my hands. “Oh shit!”

 

_ (From Kevin) Give me a few minutes to sneak out and I'll be at your house. _

 

My stomach drops as I try and tidy up my room in anticipation for Kevin and I to fight? I expect to be on the defensive for some reason. 

 

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself as I throw my odd socks scattered across my floor into the hamper where they belong. 

 

_ (From Kevin) I’m here, let me in. _

 

I try and be secretive, I’m not too sure if my mother would even care, I’d just rather she not know. I creep down the stairs and try and silence the front door as it opens.

 

I usher him in with a “Fuck!” and I cover my mouth as we sneak into my room. He’s awkwardly shuffles onto my bed, I notice his nice button up shirt, it’s nine o’clock and he put that on to come over?

 

“So what’s up?” Kevin whispers, he spreads his legs open smirking at me.

 

“I...uh, fuck! I don’t know,” I can feel myself blushing, he motions for him to sit next to him.

 

He wraps his arm around my shoulder, “It’s okay Thomas, like I know you like me...It’s just…”

 

“Just what?” You’re not gay? I’m too ugly? Weird? Spit it out man.

 

He sighs, “I like hanging out with you, because we are friends. Kissing you really messed with me. I feel like my equilibrium is off.”  

 

I turn to him, “Then don’t kiss me again, shit! We can forget about it. It didn’t happen.” I try and stand up, but he pulls me back down.

 

“No, I don’t mean it like that.” He pauses, knitting his eyebrows. “I’m not rejecting you.”

 

“Then, tit! Why does it feel like you are?” I cross my arms, I’m so god damn bratty. Kevin shakes his head, his short black hair sways with him.

 

“My parents are really expectant of me okay? They want me to become a doctor, get married to some pretty Asian girl and start having kids.” Kevin lays down on my bed in defeat.

 

“And I’m the opposite of that. Huh.” Timidly, I rest my head on Kevin’s chest, his heart is racing really fast. Shit, he nervous.

 

“I should probably go back home,” Kevin pats my head, ruffling my hair.

 

“Shit! Okay,” I don’t really want him to leave, we do have school in the morning, which is terrible, I just want to sleep forever.

 

“Is it okay if I sleep here?” He asks, pulling on my comforter to get under it.

 

“Yeah, I don’t care.” We’re both still in our jeans and I get under the blankets wrapping my arms around Kevin’s slim waist. 

 

God damn, Kevin is still here and my morning wood is pressed against his back.

 

“Honey, it’s time for school!” My mother calls, thankfully not opening my door.

 

“Shit,” Kevin throws the blankets of us. “I have to grab my backpack from home.”

 

_ (From Bradley) I’ll be there in like fifteen minutes. :p See you soon. _

 

Do some quick thinking Thomas, “Fuck! Well just get in the car with Bradley and we’ll stop at your house so you can grab your bag.”

 

“Yeah, I guess.” His face turns, I don’t really want Bradley to know that we're weird or gay or whatever. 

 

I try and get my shit together for school and Kevin awkwardly hides until Bradley pulls into my driveway. 

 

“Hey Thomas, Kevin?” Bradley gives us a look of mad confusion.

 

“Just drive to my house and let me get my backpack.” Kevin sternly dictates to Bradley.

 

Bradley drives the normal route and makes a stop at Kevin’s. “Shit!” Kevin hops out, I hope his parents don’t catch him or yell at him.

 

“So why was Kevin at your house?” Bradley turns around, shit! Think Thomas, don’t blow the rainbow cover.

 

“We were studying.” Yeah, studying.

 

Kevin returns with his bag, “I’m good,” He turns around and gives me a thumbs up.

 

When we stop at Tweek’s house, Tweek comes out looking all frazzled and with Craig following behind.


	14. Dilettante

Getting roped in to work on a Friday night really is ruining my mood. I still feel like total shit, I skipped school and therapy again. Missing two days of school and rescheduled appointment isn’t a big deal right?  I hope that no one here notices. Most of Henrietta’s crowd are people from therapy. It hasn’t started yet, I know they’ll recognize me and that’s painstaking.

 

I do feel bad though, this morning Craig and I did ride to school with Bradley and stuff only to ditch with Craig.

 

“Tweek, can you help me with something in the back?” Craig’s voice calms me down, mostly because when he asks for help, it’s because he needs someone to touch his dick real quick. He only agreed to work tonight because of me. I guess that’s special. The risk we run of getting caught in the back room doing lewd behaviors makes me want to die. 

 

“Yeah, hold on,” I say, another gloomy girl finishes up her poem to the snaps of everyone in the room. He slips into the back, no one is in line so I follow him. 

 

“This is fucking gay, can I come over after this?” Craig's scowl sends shivers down my spine. 

 

Without even thinking about how my parent's would be home, I furiously nod. 

 

He leads me back out while another girl who goes to Park High starts making allusions to slitting her wrists. I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t take a chance to kiss him in the back. Oh well, I presume that’s why he wants to come over to my house, bedroom.

 

“Yeah, I want to slice my arms like bread too,” He whispers to me and rolls his eyes, I try and not poke fun.

 

Thankfully everyone that’s here only orders black coffee. It makes my job extremely easy. Not that my job is particularly hard at all, the less work the better.Craig’s laziness is rubbing off on me it seems.

 

There’s only a few more amateur poets to go, my body’s exhausted, yet I know my mind isn’t tired. so there is no way I’m going to be able to sleep tonight. Thank God that it’s Friday. The wrap up begins with Henrietta is meekly thanking everyone for coming out to this, as well as hopefully more people showing up the next Friday. This may become a regular thing.

 

_ (From Thomas) Still working? _

 

Technically no, I’m waiting for Craig to grab his coat, smoke, and then walk home with me. I feel bad for basically ditching Thomas it’s just that Craig is taking up most of my time now. Thomas is my best friend and everything, shit.

 

After we leave and enter out into the cold is when Craig begins to smoke. This gives me ample time to send a quick text back.

 

_ (To Thomas) With Craig, getting dick. _

 

Succinct and honest, right? “Who are you texting?” Craig muffles while he puffs some smoke out of his mouth at me.

 

“Thomas, I think he wanted to hang out.” I smirk at Craig.

 

He smirks back.

 

* * *

 

 

Explaining to my father and mother why Craig and I were coming back from work was extremely excruciating, mostly because it was still happening. I stammered too much and Craig swooped in with the great lie that we beat to death.

 

“Tweek is my tutor, Mr. and Mrs. Tweak.” Craig nasally explains, I sometimes worry that he might be a serial killer, lying doesn’t really phase him.  

 

“Oh, that’s interesting.” My mother comments turning away from the television, the news is on, old news though. 

 

“How do you like working at Tweak Bros, Craig?” My father insisted of course he does, he put the newspaper down, he’s going to talk to us. 

 

“It’s fine sir, just covering for my friend Clyde, until he recovers.” I hope that’s not true, I don’t want to have to start making out and giving hand jobs to Clyde to make work bearable. I smile to my own musing, I hope I seem into this conversation.

 

“You boys ready for college?” No. Craig and I look at each other we shrug a bit, my father smiles at us.

 

“Sure, dad.”

 

“Haha, you two excited for the prom, which girls are you eyeing up?” His laugh perturbs me sometimes, I get why he’s asking. The news reporting of another hate crime on the television bothers me. 

 

“I don’t really think I would want to go.” Craig answers.

 

My father laughs, “I see how you befriended Tweek then.” I think this might be a dig at me? I’m not too sure, he returns to reading the newspaper which means that we can probably get away to my room.

 

Once we have the privacy of my slightly dirty bedroom, I’m always busy I never have time to clean it. I guess that’s a good thing? Craig tells me, “They’re way better than my parents.”

 

“Yeah, my dad is kinda a boner killer.” I flop on my bed spreading myself out my limbs.

 

“Didn’t stop mine.” Craig begins to undress, yes. I know that my parents are downstairs and my father apparently thinks I’m straight. 

 

“Just be quiet, okay?” I warn him, if he blows my cover I might get mad at him? I don’t really think I would, just inconvenienced I want to leave South Park anyway, being super gay is the best excuse.

 

Craig pulls my shirt off of me, for me. Too lost in thought, but I’m willing to let his dick in my mouth I’m certain. 

 

We fool around only to stop once we hear the creaks of the stairs. It’s alright to stop it’s already midnight, I’m only thinking of it now, but normally my parents don’t wait for me to get home. God damn it, they think I am up to something. Craig begins to orgasm inside me, I’m receptive and let him finish me off for a second time tonight. 

 

“Thanks,” I tell him, not too sure what to say to him. Do I tell him that I love him? Isn't that what you do? In porn it normally ends after they finish. 

 

“You're really cute, Tweek.” Craig lays next.to me, still naked. “It's cool if I sleep here, right?”

 

I thought maybe losing my virginity would be something special, I'm not saying this wasn't just I expected more than Craig Tucker petting my hair in the nude while he begins to pass out.

 

Sighing, I gather my clothes and put them back on, I’m super not tired. I want some coffee and maybe a shower. I want my outsides and insides to both be scalding. My parents don’t wake up until about seven AM anyway. I can take solace in the living room. I’ll make my coffee and semi pretend to watch the television at a barely audible level. 

 

Hours pass as I lay disheveled on the couch, unsure what to do about Craig, is he gonna be my boyfriend? I don’t really like conventions all that much. He’s pretty chill, but I plan on leaving South Park. The counselors, mostly spearheaded by Mr. Mackey, want us to get our applications out.

 

I might as well look at some art schools, Thomas is trying to encourage me as well to go to the same school as him. 

 

Checking my phone I notice the text from Thomas.

 

_ (From Thomas) Are you okay? You weren’t even in art. _

 

I fiddle with my hands trying to think up an excuse.

 

“Hey,” Craig whispers as he tries to creep down the stairs. I wind up ignoring Thomas.

 

“Hey,” I’m really glad that we wound up trading shifts from Saturday to yesterday. Today is Saturday, Tweek. 

 

“Token texted me, his parents apparently are both gone again. It’s all day drinking, would that bother you?” Craig held up his phone at me.

 

I thought about it, being out in public sounds terrible, I haven’t really slept at all these past couple of days. “We need to wait a bit, my dad heads to work by eight on the weekends.” Craig nods and we hide in my bedroom having to kill time.

 

“Why do we have to wait until your dad leaves?” Craig asks gruffly displaying  himself on my bed.

 

“He’d notice and probably get pissed? I haven’t been like ‘grounded’ in years.” I slouch in my computer chair that most likely needs to be replaced, the one arm fell off when Bradley put too much of his weight on it.

 

“Are you sure you want to go?” Craig pouts at me like he always does at school.

 

“Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

Everyone drinking scattered around Token’s expansive house intimidated me. I hung close to Craig for the most part.

 

It was mostly South Park kids so enough people to be considered a party, but not enough to make me claustrophobic. 

 

We were passed beers and I only meekly sip mine. Clyde and Bebe are making out intensely on the main loveseat in the foyer? I'm not sure what this room would be called. I almost want to say ballroom, I mean enough blue balls to make it a ballroom.

 

“Come with me,” Craig pulls me aside into a hallway and then another hallway. I spot Millie and Kenny talking amongst themselves, they wave. 

 

Craig brings me to the billiard room to secretly kiss me. He purposely checks to see if anyone is coming and closes the wooden door. 

 

“Oh.” I only say as he begins to take charge. 

 

He’s biting my lower lip, I groan.

 

Time seems to stop until we’re caught. The door swings open with some chuckling.

 

“Oh, guys, hey.” It’s Token and Wendy trying to probably do the same thing Craig and I were doing.

 

Craig spins around, I’m terrified this is probably the end of me getting to make out with Craig Tucker forever. Everyone’s going to find out and I’ll get beat up at school.

 

Wendy pipes up, “Do you guys want to play pool with us? Unless if you guys want to keep making out.”

 

“Uh yeah, sure we'll play.” Craig answers for the both of us, I want to run and die. 

 

We pair up based on our relationships. I never played pool before and I never sink a ball in. None of us say anything to each other during the game. We were all mostly concentrating. Once Token and Wendy sink in the eight ball, I make an excuse.

 

“I really don’t feel good.” I stare at Craig for him to get the hint that I want to leave. 

 

“Yeah, me either Tweek, I’ll see you at school? Where have you been?” She seems a little drunk, but Wendy doesn’t appear bothered about my gayness or impoliteness.

 

“Been kinda sick, Craig dragged me here.” Not a lie. 

 

Token sets the billiard balls up to put away or play again with Wendy, I don’t care I’m out of there.

 

Pushing past some fellow classmates trying to rush out of there, I welcome the fresh air. Craig begins to walk me home. It’s only three in the afternoon.

 

“Are you alright?” Yeah, your friend just waltzed in with his girlfriend.

 

“Yeah, like do they know...about you?” We're outside so I think it's probably safe to be careful someone could be listening.

 

“I mean Wendy does know now. I know shit about Token too.” Craig keeps silent and drops me off at my house. I chose not to press any further if Craig didn't think we were in any immediate danger. 

 

My mother greets me and I say “Hey,” and run to my room. 

 

I guess Craig is right about them being friends with him, it's not like Token and Wendy are a star couple, they're a bit infamous. What would they gain from outing Craig Tucker? Nothing. 

 

I try and placate myself with this until I can fall asleep. 


	15. Now, Now

Having a restless night’s sleep made the dark circles around my eyes more prominent. I try and not worry about the Psychology test I’ll have later in the morning. It snowed again last night, nonetheless it was only a dusting. I lay my head on Craig’s shoulder in Bradley’s van. The silence is palpable as we drive in.

 

Walking into homeroom only to be corralled like sheep to the slaughter into the gymnasium. I hang tight to Craig mostly keeping my eyes closed, I’m not too sure what day it is, I think it’s a Monday. An assembly would mean that the class times would get fucked so maybe I’ll get away with being a total zombie. Craig and Kevin sandwich me since the whole school is packed in, we’re sitting pretty high up in the bleachers.

 

I can hear some people whispering about how someone was being choked to death, I finally look to the center of the basketball court. Bouquets of roses lined a blown up portrait of Scott Malkinson. 

 

…

 

I must appear stunned while Mr. Mackey takes the microphone to explain the untimely passing of one of our fellow students. I knew him. Craig begins to hug me close and I can’t stop the tears from spilling out of my eye sockets. I remember being a little kid and being forced to hang out with Scott due to our parent’s short acquaintanceship. 

 

Apparently counselors will be available and classes can be optional. Craig pats my head as people begin to mourn. Wendy seemed to step up getting people to agree to a candle vigil. The crowds disperse, more people head to the counselors than I expected, I know my own doctor will inquire about this later. Seeing Kevin firmly frowning while he packs his things up, unsure of where he’s headed.

 

Craig tells me that we’re leaving and I’m too choked up to be in public anymore. 

 

* * *

 

Too many kids walk the streets while the cold makes my tears sting. I can’t stop crying. Craig and I walk with enough distance, his armor cracked today and I feel lighter that he isn’t sociopathic. 

 

My phone is buzzing in my pants pocket too close to my junk. 

 

I know people are probably trying to contact me, especially since I look a mess, I'm so angry that someone did that to him. Murdered Jesus Christ, that's terrifying I'm never going out again. Thomas and I acted like when we both turned eighteen maybe we would go to a club together. There's some eighteen plus gay clubs in Denver and right outside of South Park. I was apprehensive about it before and now it's a definite hell no. 

 

Craig's looking at me weird as we kick through the snow back to my house. It's really freezing and I want to stop sniffling, my face is cold. 

 

Craig mumbles something about getting me some coffee. A caffeine boost would probably make me feel better.

 

Yearning for the warmth in my house I am stomping through the snow, we're almost there. 

 

“Are you okay?” He asks me while I am laser focused on my front door. 

 

I don't answer him and practically run into my living room not even thinking that my mother's SUV is buried in the driveway. She's sobbing on the couch while watching the local news. Nothing of importance must be happening in Colorado if Scott’s death is on a loop. 

 

She turns to me and doesn't say anything about my truancy or the fact Craig is trailing behind me while I run to my room. Shedding  off my wet jacket and snow covered boots. 

 

My shirt is also damp, sighing I throw that off too before I retreat under my blankets, exhausted. 

 

Craig still prepared for the cold, quietly steps in. “I talked to your mom, she told me to try and feel better.” He unzipped his coat and took off his shoes to sit on the bed with me. 

 

He rubbed one of my exposed shoulders, “I'm hiding here until school's over.” I nod into my pillow and he lays beside me patting my head. 

 

* * *

 

I wake up and check my phone, I remember Craig laying next to me. 

 

_ (From Thomas) Dude, did you bail? _

 

Yes, yes I did.

 

_ (From Bradley) Feel better dude.  _

 

I mean I know I looked upset when Craig and I decided to run out of there. Investigating, I throw my blankets onto the floor disregarding my already messy bedroom. Peeking down the stairs, the television is on a low volume. “You’re awake,” Craig calls out before the stairs have a chance to give me away.

 

“Yeah,” I'm not sure what time it is, it's dark out.

 

“It snowed a lot more than expected, school got cancelled.” Craig informs me, I slowly creep to the couch to sit next to him. 

 

“That's bitching.” Craig laughs at me. 

 

“You should probably put your shirt back on.” Craig pokes my exposed stomach.

 

I wrap my hands around his waist to stop him. He pats my head to a late night commercial about a local car dealership. Do I try and learn to drive? That’s something I could probably do, I just need to believe in myself more. 

 

“I’m starving.” Craig tells me and this normalcy of ignoring death is subsiding me for now. 

 

Quickly departing from the old sofa, we venture into the kitchen, “I can make mac and cheese.” Excited to be useful, I just wanted to do something, use my hands.

 

After twenty minutes I slightly burn Craig’s mac and cheese and he laughs at me. “It’s alright, when the sun comes up, do you want to build like a snowman or something?”

 

“Yeah that sounds nice.” I worry about frostbite and people coming to stab us, but I oblige by getting actually dressed and dragging out some old snowsuits.

 

After eating my poorly made food we put even more clothes on to embrace the single digit weather. Craig runs out into my backyard quickly rolling up some snow. I put on a smile and struggle with helping Craig lift snow on top of each other. I don’t think that I have ever built anything with snow. Igloos terrified me when I was younger, the walls could easily collapse on you and you’d be dead, nothing you could do.

 

* * *

 

Looking through our kitchen window, my parents could see the snowman we worked on.

 

They were also slightly confused later that day that Craig stayed for dinner, the blizzard excuse was running out of steam now that the roads had been cleared. Earlier I plotted that I was really upset and that Craig was helping me. It’s true and it doesn’t mean that I sucked on his dick in my room after we built Mr. Freeze outside. 

 

“The food’s great Mrs. Tweak.” It throws me off when Craig acts politely, placing on a different mask like that. I guess that’s how he can pass as straight to a majority of people in South Park. Either that or no one gives a shit. Besides we are only eating rotisserie chicken and fake mashed potatoes. 

 

My father did what I expected him to do, be uncomfortable and talk about something upsetting and topical. “Did you hear that boy died?” No, no I didn’t dad. We’re completely oblivious.

 

“Yeah,” Craig speaks for both of us, thankfully. 

 

“That’s what he gets, you know hanging out in queer bars.” He ends his sentence by eating some more. 

 

My stomach drops while my mother playfully slaps his shoulder with a “Richard!” He apologizes, nevertheless I am going insane. At least he isn’t clued in on our gay sex shenanigans. 

We finish eating, Craig makes this excuse, “I should probably get home, my parents are probably worried about me.”

 

My mother tells him to “Be safe!” As he gets his coat and hat. I begin to clean the dishes just so my parents will get distracted and go somewhere else. After cleaning I normally sneak away to my room. 

 

My father takes the bait and goes to his office while my mom, a bit too smart for my tricks. “Tweek, don’t worry about it, are you okay?” She rubs my back and I have to fight the urge to cry.

 

Don’t lie either, though, “Not really, shaken up about everything.” 

 

“It’s a rough time, you’ll get through it. I remember when a friend of mine in college passed away. Only twenty two, I’ll never forget her name, Melinda.” My mother reminisced, it made me feel better that this has happened and other people also feel grief. 

 

“Thanks mom,” I scrub the dishes clean and when I go to sleep, I pray that none of my nightmares wake me up and make me cry.

 

* * *

 

Going back to school is a whirlwind, having the snow day, let us soak in Scott’s death. Craig didn't really go home after dinner, he just snuck back in through my window like two hours later. He had to call his mother, everyone's been in a fog so he got away with fucking me for two days. 

 

Thomas was sitting in the front seat, Kevin must have walked. I wonder if his parents are worried about his safety.

 

It made the car ride less crowded and like I expected less quiet as well. Pulling into the parking lot, most of the cars weren't there. I'm not surprised that most people took off today. 

 

We escape to homeroom and Craig and I find Kevin sitting in homeroom reading. 

 

Shockingly Craig asks my question, “How’d you get here?”

 

Kevin coldly flipping another page, “The bus.”

 

I shrug my shoulders and Craig pulls out a coloring book and a box of crayons. 

 

“Where the hell did you get that from?” I find myself asking. 

 

“My locker, I stole it from my sister a couple of weeks ago I guess.” Craig and I sit down and he puts the book on my desk. My guess is to share, he hands me a crayon and that's how we kill time in homeroom. 

 

The smiling cat that I'm coloring orange sticks in my mind, smile.

 

Craig lets me rip out my page for later, it's nice of him and I might get to continue it in art. 

 

Thomas waves at me a bit excited, “So Kevin's here, right?”

 

“Yeah, he was in homeroom.” His face drooped in disappointment.

 

Our art teacher is at her desk, she continually points at the whiteboard ‘Create art’ is the only thing written. I work on my smiling cat with some stray crayons in the art room. 

 

“Hey Tweek,” Thomas breaks my concentration, “Are you gonna apply to that Denver art school? Shit!”

 

Shit indeed, I pause and think about it. “Sure, come over and like help me, I guess?” My mouth stumbles, I want to. I'm going to have a future and if I can't do art school, I can always do something else. 

 

* * *

 

I fail my psychology test I'm certain, I'm kinda pissed I still had to take it. 

 

Lunch is quiet and Kevin doesn't sit with us. 

 

I'm halfway through my sandwich and my poorly colored in cat is almost done. 

 

Some North Park kid with a flyer bothers us, well me. 

 

“There's gonna be a rally at the town hall after school.” He tells us and leaves. 

 

“Yeah people are pushing against gay people or something.” Bradley informs and Craig squeezes my hand under the table. 

 

Lunch passes and health is weird. We learn about grieving, apparently the parents of South Park being outraged ticked our teacher off. I guess being a sheltered gay boy makes me oblivious to whatever people are complaining about. 

 

Craig nudges me and suggests that “Let's go and see what hits the fan.” 

 

I go to my AP class eager to be angry at the rednecks in the town. Kevin didn't even walk with me or talk to me in class. I guess he's taking Scott’s death hard. I don't want to suspect that he's just cutting out his gay friends in light of what happened.

 

I don't pay attention to the lesson on purpose.

 

Craig and I agree to walk over to the town hall. Apparently it's starting at three o'clock to encourage the teenagers to care. Well it worked. 

 

As we walk, “I wonder if our parents will be there?”

 

Craig was right. 

 

I'm ready to punch someone as soon as we arrive. Most of the church families have signs with ‘gays rot in hell’ and ‘sinners repent’ written on them. 

 

Involuntary movements make me blackout and I'm kissing Craig in public. My eyes are closed. Some people boo and some clap. I didn't even notice when I open my eyes that Craig is gone and an angry mob is breathing down my neck. 

 

I run.


	16. They All Surrounded Me

It's already winter break and Craig and I had to go under the radar. After I kissed him I fled from the scene. No one really bothered Craig. Some homophobes started ridiculing Thomas and me, not totally sure why Thomas started being more open. Thomas banded together with Wendy to start a gay straight alliance club. I think it was to get back at Kevin, he hasn't talked to Thomas and I in weeks. 

 

Wendy started talking to us more and her odd friendship really surprised me and filled Kevin’s absence.

 

I spent most of my time at the coffee shop. Wiping down the counter anxiously, fearing an angry customer even though no one has ever been mean to me at work. I missed Craig, him having to hide meant his job here had to end.

 

Clyde came back to work and I think Craig told him what happened. 

 

_ (From Craig) I'm coming to buy coffee. _

 

People can't call Craig a fag if he buys coffee from me apparently. Resorting to only phone conversations made it feel like I had a relationship with a boy from Finland.

 

“Tweek, you okay?” Clyde pats my shoulder, I'm just frozen staring at my phone with regret. 

 

I don't tell him the truth, “Yeah,” I don't say I miss your best friend touching me and him listening to my bullshit.

 

Bradley took off, the Biggles went on a family vacation to London. Who knows why, his parents and family dynamic confuse the shit out of me. 

 

I wish he was here to kill time with me. 

 

Guilty last minute Christmas shoppers sporadically come in and order a latte. Boring, boring, boring.

 

I'm awaiting on acceptance letters just like everyone else in our senior class. I hope I don't become an art school reject. If I get stuck in South Park I'm killing myself. I know Thomas is anticipating the same envelope that I am.

 

Craig's finally here and he's smiling at me with a present wrapped in his hands.

 

Clyde smiles at me before addressing Craig, “Oh Craig, you shouldn't have!”

 

Craig gives a half smile, “It's not for you dipshit. It's for...Tweek.”

 

Clyde gives us a knowing smile and his eyebrows raise. 

 

“Open this in private.” I stand there with the small box in my hands that need desperate washing in preparation for whatever Craig bought me. 

 

“I want a hot chocolate,” Thankfully Clyde is paying attention for me. Making Craig's simple order should be easy for him. 

 

Craig pays with cash and hits me with a, “See you around?” I love him. 

* * *

I slipped on the ice coating the still frozen sidewalks trying to run home. I didn't hurt myself and I successfully held on to Craig's gift. Throughout the remainder of that shift I couldn't keep my eyes off of whatever Craig made/bought me. I had a pit in my stomach because we agreed on the phone to not get each other anything.

 

Taking my time through the snow and slush. I greet my mother who's sitting on the couch under a blanket. 

 

“Hey Tweek, how was work?” Her green eyes soften and motherly appreciation kicks in. 

 

“Not terrible, was a lot less busy than I anticipated.” Her eyes laser in on the gift in my hands. 

 

“Who gave that to you? Was it the Donovan boy?” Embarrassed, I don't correct her and awkwardly smile, she's trying.

 

“That's awfully nice of him.” She warmly smiles at the television and allows me to hide and obsess in my room. I don't really care if my mom thinks I'm boning Clyde.

 

Diligently sitting down and opening the poorly wrapped cardboard box. I notice a letter and some new and pretty expensive drawing pencils. 

 

_ Tweek,  _

 

_ I know we've talked about you kissing me in public like a lovesick idiot. I'm sorry that we can't talk at school anymore without some North Park assholes ruining your day. I know that wasn't what you wanted to happen in the face of hatred. It's in my best interest to make sure that you are okay. I know how you can get upset. I'm really glad that you're pursuing art. You're talented Tweek, Thomas told me that you were unsure of even applying. Don't doubt yourself. Also Clyde got into the University of Denver already so I'm confident that I will too. If we both get in we'll only be a ten minute walk away from each other. I don't know why I feel this way, Tweek, but you're someone I can trust.  _

 

_ If you're surprised by this, I'm normally thinking these things. I can't just blurt out how hot I think you look.  _

 

  1. _Write me back, you know where my locker is/ where I live._



 

_ I'm not ready to end letters with love and sincerely is too gay and formal, Craig.  _

 

Tears slowly stream down my face. I wasn't sure what I expected. Craig's really sweet, sickeningly so. I fold the letter, kiss it and hold it to my heart. 

 

I needed to put this somewhere safe so I could look at it again. I wish I did something for Craig. 

 

My phone buzzes,

 

_ (From Craig) Open it yet? _

 

_ (To Craig) Yes, you didn't have to.  _

 

I hatch an idea and begin to shed my clothing. I have an okay camera on my phone. Even if hackers break into my phone, how would they know that it's my body if I don't show my face? I stare at my nude body for too long and I feel narcissistic.

 

_ (From Craig) Merry Christmas Tweek.  _

 

_ (To Craig) Image pending… _

 

_ (To Craig) Image sent.  _

 

Feeling self satisfied I prepare for a shower since I'm halfway there. 

 

_ (From Craig) I accept this as your present to me. _

 

I grin at my phone like a lovesick idiot. 

* * *

Second week of January and I'm only at the halfway point of the year.

 

Homeroom is awkward since Kevin chooses to ignore me and I can't talk to Craig for obvious reasons. I had been thinking of writing him a letter as well. I started to read a manga that Bradley bought in London for me. It’s about demons and time travel. The art style is what keeps me on certain pages for longer. 

 

The bell rings and I totally stare at Craig's ass as he walks in front of me. 

 

Art class makes me happy when Thomas bombards me with good news. 

 

“I got accepted! Fuck yes!” Thomas giddily telling me. Our art teacher overhears and approaches. 

 

“That's great news Thomas! How about you Tweek?” God damn, I uh.

 

“Not yet,” Her mouth curls into a supportive smile. 

 

“There's still time. Let's get started with the lesson I suppose.” She glances at her funky multicolored watch. 

 

I can't help the feeling of jealousy that Thomas already knows where he's going. 

 

I mostly keep to myself in my classes, even in Psych when Craig is watching me. 

 

I almost forgot that there's a gay straight alliance meeting today. 

 

“So you guys don't need a ride today?” Bradley sounding disappointed while chewing on a soggy French frie.

 

“Yeah, shit! You can come to the meeting if you want to hang out after.” Thomas suggests, we've been playing a Lovecraftian tabletop game. It caught Henrietta’s attention and she's our fourth player now.

 

“I'm good, just head over after.” I nod my head to show that I agree. I already ate my sandwich and I'm still starving. 

 

Health class happens and I just doodle in my notebook, I feel pretty good about knowing the differences in mental illnesses. 

 

I walk alone to AP English, sometimes I catch Wendy and we talk a bit on the way there. The final exam is looming over me, does this even matter?

 

I sit awkwardly near Kevin and we don't talk to each other. I'm not angry at him, mostly confused. 

 

Wendy picks me out of the crowd, “You're coming to the meeting, right?”

 

“Definitely,” Earnestly smiling at Wendy, I know the past few months probably affected her as well. 

 

“Can I ask you something?” She peers around, “I'll wait till everyone leaves.”

 

Wendy waltzes away allowing me to grab my bag from my locker. Looking at the barren inside, I never understood why people plastered pictures in their lockers. You're not here forever.

 

Ten minutes pass and most people have left or went to their extracurriculars.

 

Wendy catches me again, waiting at my locker. 

 

“So this is a tough question, but please keep this a secret. I trust Bebe and then you the most to not tell anyone.” Wendy stares into my eyes. I'm honored and she's too trusting. 

 

“I promise, I won't what's wrong?” Secretly I'm worried that she's going to reveal a conspiracy to be real to me. 

 

“Well, how do you feel about kids?” She rubs the back of her neck. 

 

“Uh, bad?”

 

“Well how do you feel about abortion?” She nervously whispers. 

 

Loaded question, I piece together that she's talking about herself, “Wendy, for real, you're the smartest person in South Park. Whatever you decide is probably the right thing to do.”

 

“I already did,” Her voice trailing, “Thanks, I think I needed that. We should go to the meeting, they're probably wondering where we are.”

 

Agreeing with her, I follow her to the designated classroom we were assigned. 

 

“Hey everyone, sorry if I'm a little late. On the initiative is to get same sex prom dates accepted!”

 

As Wendy begins her spiel, I sit next to Thomas, I don't even care about prom, but I would kill someone for Craig even asked me.

 

I'm not very talkative at these meetings, mostly because the underclassmen are more invigorated about the whole Scott death. 

 

Thomas is technically the vice president of the club so I stay with him until the end of the meeting. 

 

Wendy is organizing her papers, “Hey, you guys need a ride home? I don't mind, I'm a little bored.” 

 

Thomas shrugs his shoulders noncommittally

 

“We were going to hang out at Bradley’s house after this.” I feel weird to accept Wendy’s kindness, but she offered and I think it would be more suspicious if we said no.

 

“Oh cool, I'm gonna hang out with Bebe after and he lives near her still right?” Wendy stuffs her supplies into her purse and trendy backpack.

 

I offer a meek, “Yeah.” Wendy led us to her car in the mostly empty parking lot. Sitting in her front seat I noticed how clean the seats were compared to Bradley's. 

 

The drive is only about a few minutes. Thomas, thanks her with, “Fuck! Thanks Wendy.” She nods and waves goodbye. 

* * *

Henrietta rolls her die, moves her game token, and picks up a card. “Interesting, Cthulhu drives you mad by forcing you to look into the abyss. Lose a turn.”

 

Bradley laughs at his sister and she laughs as well, my phone buzzes and I expect that it is Craig. 

 

_ (From Craig) Image attached. _

 

_ (From Craig) Thought I pay you back. _

 

Jesus Christ Craig Tucker, I'm not in my bedroom and I'm staring at your torso and dick. A nude bathroom picture is pleasant, but too much of a risk when Bradley is sitting next to me. 

 

“Tweek it's your turn,” Henrietta’s smoker voice makes me instinctively hide my phone. 

 

“Sorry,” I take the two marble die and roll them. We've been playing for about an hour and I think Bradley should win soon. 

 

Finishing my turn, I quickly text Craig back.

 

_ (To Craig) I'll call you when I'm done. _

 

_ (From Craig) What are you doing? _

 

“Son of a bitch, I was so close to winning.” Thomas admits dropping his cards as Bradley gets to the middle of the board with the right weapon cards.  

 

“Good game, you guys.” Henrietta nods as we clean up and organize the board game pieces. 

 

“I'll see you guys around, I think I'm gonna walk home. I have homework.” I quickly make an excuse before Bradley and Thomas can suggest anything else.

 

“Alright dude, I'll see you tomorrow.” Bradley gives me a thumbs up.

 

Heading outside, I hit the call button for my favorite cute asshole.

 

He picks up, “What's good, Tweek? Hanging out with Brad?” His vocal fry coming through the speaker.

 

“Yeah where else would I be?”

 

“You like my picture?” He almost giggles which makes me mad and slightly aroused? I hate my hormones. 

 

“Yes,” I admit.

 

“I got into Denver U.” He tells me, of course I'm going to find out last.

 

“That's great.” I focus on walking as Craig mostly stays quiet on the other line. 

 

“I'm almost home, I'll call you back when I'm in my room.” 

 

“Okay,” He hangs up. 

 

When I open the front door, my parents are sitting in the kitchen eating dinner together. 

 

“There he is, congratulations Tweek!” My mother jumps up from the table. 

 

“I always knew you'd be an artist son,” My father chirps from the table. 

 

My mom lets go of me and hands me my acceptance letter. 

 

“I'm really proud of you.” I smile at her and try to not cry. 

 

“Thanks, mom. I'm gonna shower real quick and then eat.” This is a lie, I'm going to call Craig first then shower. 

 

“Alright, I made a dish for you already, it's in the fridge.” 

 

Retreating to my bedroom, I dial back Craig. 

 

“Hey, I got into art school.” My heart flutters.

 

“That's amazing Tweek. I can't wait to get out of here.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This is it, thanks for reading Obstacle! I hope the ending is satisfying. I'm fiddling around with a sequel idea for this, but I'm not too certain on what it will be.
> 
> I made a playlist of all the chapter songs here.
> 
> http://hypster.com/playlists/userid/5424627?7234774


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